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entishramblings · 3 years

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The Essence of Arda [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: whoA okay so this fic took me on a whole ass adventure. I kinda just let the story go where it wanted to and ya know I’m kinda happy with how it turned out. Also, “(h/c)” means hair color...there is something I included but I wanted to make sure you guys could still see yourself as the character so yeah! Another also...I’m sorry....this was requested literally so long ago.

Request: @sokkasdarling — heyhey im gonna request smth cus i LOVE U AND UR WRITING HHHH okay so how about a jealous legolas fic where he thinks the reader and aragorn have a lil thing going on but they're just really great friends and she actually likes legolas very much?? please and thank you<3333

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) and Legolas’s paths cross in an unexpected way and the two develop feelings for each other. However, Legolas is unsure and gets jealous bc of the way Aragorn and (Y/N) interact.

Word Count: 3,661 (sorry I got a little carried away)

Warnings: angst, fluff, cuteness, jealousy, the tiniest amount of nudity

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST | AO3

Legolas had met many wandering souls throughout his travels of middle earth—weathered, withered, and warped humans in particular, for the elements and loneliness seemed to affect them more so. Elves, on the other hand, were bound to nature. It was where their hearts rested and their spirits thrived; therefore, the desperation of the empty lands of Arda did not affect him. However, that didn’t mean he did not wish for company. So, on that account, Legolas made his way north towards the Dundain, in hopes to see his good friend Aragorn once more.

It was there, in the northern wilderness, where he met the most riveting and thought-provoking individual. The intriguing nature that compelled his attention was that she was so unlike the other humans he ventured upon, specifically because she wasn’t exactly human.

The first time he had met (Y/N) was when her sharp canine teeth were at his throat.

A (h/c) she-wolf had launched herself at him with an unhinged jaw and barring teeth. The nimble creature had been so swift that he, even as an elf, did not have time to react. The wolf had pinned him down with a viscous expression—laughing at his surprise. Legolas was only quick enough to pull a knife from his belt once he was already knocked down upon the mud. However, he hesitated just before he was going to strike the blade into the beasts’ belly.

As intimidated as he was, something in those vibrant earthy eyes made him halt. Was it the deep churning of the sea? The fresh breath of the sky? The moisture of the leaves? The pooling of sun-kissed honey? The thickness of clay-like soil? Legolas was unsure why exactly, but those eyes reflected the essence of Arda—they reflected it right back into his soul. And here was his miscalculation, for the natural instincts of a wolf would not suspend for its prey—well, not without a familiar voice calling out....?

“(Y/N), NO!”

The creature froze. She reluctantly backed off of his form but she did not let her guard down. Instead, she circled him with those same barring teeth and low growls.

Legolas inhaled a deep breath of cold air as he tried to re-center himself, for it was not often an elf got knocked on their ass and enthralled so deep in a beauty.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and focused in on his elvish senses—feeling every nerve in his body scream out to be alert.

Legolas’s ears picked up the first indication—the speaker.

A sound of rough, ragged panting carried through the breeze as his gaze whispered upon the being who had previously hollered—a worn down Ranger.

A small grin crossed the elf’s face. Aragon stood before Legolas, with hands on his knees, sucking in deep breathes. An entirely human action. The Ranger clearly had a hard time keeping up with the canine creature—which he surprisingly seemed to be acquainted with.

“Legolas, by the Valar, I didn’t know you were traveling through these parts,” He exclaimed.

The elf chuckled as he stood, brushing dirt off his palms.

“Well, I suppose I am lucky for she listens to you well,” He nodding at the wolf for reference.

The Ranger shook his head and let out an amused laugh. “She never listens to a thing I say. So, you are lucky, indeed.”

The wolf released a snort-like sound as if she was retorting to his words.

The Ranger rolled his eyes before speaking to Legolas again, “Let me show you to where we are camped. A hot meal will be waiting.”

Legolas smiled softly, “Thank you, Mellon Nin (my friend).”

The group—consisting of man, elf, and wolf—traveled through the woodland tundra with small conversation between the two who could speak. They shared their recent adventures and current news across the lands until they come upon a handful of Rangers around a blazing fire. They were clad in similar attire as Aragorn, being worn leather boots and thick fraying fabrics. Each of them had the same haunted expressions as many people Legolas had met, yet nothing like the joyful grin that pulled slightly at Aragorn’s lips.

The Ranger introduced each of his companions to the elf as he settled down upon a log. Legolas did the same, allowing himself to become enthralled by the brilliant flames. The she-wolf left his thoughts.

As the moon rose high and stars stretched across the sky, the rangers began to settle for the evening. It was then when the elf ducked away to relieve himself.

He made his way through the twisting trees in silence for he enjoyed listening to the sounds of night’s nature. But the normal chirps and hoots was not what met his ears; rather it was snapping bones and ripping skin, small groans and weak whimpers—it was pain.

Legolas narrowed his eyes and crept forward cautiously, fearful of what he might find.

The sounds let him towards a rather large bolder that was impeded in the ground and covered in thick moss. He was startled as he laid a hand on the cold stone, for a leg protruded upon the side—a leg belonging to the canine species.

It bended and it snapped, morphing into one of human nature—much like his own. It then disappeared behind the rock once more. He could not hold back the gasp that left his lips for witnessing such a thing was—shocking, confusing, terrifying. It was unnatural, but then again, what was ever natural within the lands of Arda?

Legolas’s attention was drawn upwards as a naked figure shakily stood before him.

She stood straight, with impeccable posture, and a head held high; but that is not what claimed his consciousness. It was that vibrant gaze, burning angry holes into him.

She spoke sharply, “Well, are you going to pass me my clothing?”

Instead of responding or making any motion, he froze as if he was deer hiding from the predator once more. His blue orbs locked onto hers, for he dared not let his gaze wander.

Dreadful silence hung in their air as he processed that the person before him indeed was a wolf moments before—the wolf.

However, that antagonizing absence of sound was disrupted when life was breathed back into him and he could finally move his lips. Though it came out as a whisper, for elves were conservative creatures and such a sight had caught him off guard, it still came out nonetheless.

“You are—are not entirely human.” He stated with an expression that seeped curiousness and inquiry.

“Though, currently, I am shaped like one. So, as you are in my way, I will ask you once again to pass me my clothing.” She reiterated.

Legolas’s brows pulled together and his lips mumbled her words back to her as he searched his mind for the meaning. He twisted around and around until a pile of dark fabrics caught his eye. He grasped them gently and passed it over the boulder between them into her calloused hands.

He turned so his back was facing her. His anxiety and awkwardness reverberated off of every word that non-consensually tumbled from his lips. “You are a shifter then—able to alter your form? A wolf....so I suppose it was you who almost tore my throat out.” He paused before recalling her name, “(Y/N).” He should have stopped there if he could, but alas, he couldn’t. “I have only ever met one other like you. His name was Beorn—a great black bear he was—“

She interrupted him, “Most elves I come across are not so verbal. Though, Strider had mentioned you before, Legolas. A strange fellow you are indeed.”

A small grin of embarrassment flickered across his face, not that she could see. “He called me strange?”

A laugh, sounding of blades of grass rubbing together against the wind, struck the air. (Y/N) spoke, “For an elf he had said. But truly, he was too generous with those extra words.”

Legolas tilted his head at that for it seemed to be an insult; but before he could decide on such a matter, she called out to him again—this time fully clothed and ten feet in front of him.

“Are you coming?”

He quickly scampered after her.

As he and (Y/N) entered the area, Aragorn, who still sat by the fire, glanced up with a shimmer in his eye.

Legolas gridded his teeth and sat down next to the man. In a voice as low and quiet as he could muster, he spoke to the Ranger. “Why didn’t you tell me she was the wolf?”

Aragorn smirked in amusement before whispering back, “I figured you would eventually come to that conclusion and by your expression it was not of the best experiences.”

Legolas shot his friend a glare, but that only made the Ranger grin more.

Luckily for the elf, (Y/N) interrupted the moment. “Strider, did you save me some stew? I’m starved.”

The man passed a bowl to her as he spoke, “You know I always do, (Y/N).”

She smiled gratefully.

The Ranger stood and made his way to his bedroll, clapping the elf on the shoulder as he went.

Legolas took notice of the interaction between the two and turned his attention to the woman sitting across from him.

Once he was sure Aragorn was out of ear shot, he spoke quite bluntly, “You and Strider....are you—“

She snorted, “No, no. His heart lies in Rivendell.”

Legolas raised an eyebrow, “And yours?”

(Y/N) shrugged and glanced up at the scenery around them. “Here. In the lands of middle earth.”

The elf tilted his head, examining her again.

She stopped her chewing and sent him an accusatory look. “What?”

Legolas smiled softly, “I sense that shifters are much like elves in that regard—bound to nature and tethered in the sky.”

She raised a brow, “And what makes you think that?”

He chuckled lightly at her bold fierceness, “Your eyes. I can see the essence of Arda in them.”

(Y/N) shook her head in amusement, “Elves and their poetry.” She paused, taking a moment to think. “Although what you say is true, it is within that where I think we differ. You elves are laced up spiritually whereas shifters are tied animalisticly.” When the elf did not respond she continued, “You care for morals, I care to survive.”

Legolas nodded in understanding, “Yet we both appreciate the beauty of it.”

The corner of her lip pulled upwards and she shook her head in agreement.

......

As time went on and the small group traveled, the female shifter and the elf became great friends—bonding over their infinity with nature. The two had split off from the rangers for a little while because (Y/N) wanted to see the forest of Greenwood and examine what seemed to be haunting it. However, after approximately two moon cycles, they met with Aragorn once more. He was not with his previous companions though, so it was only the three of them.

The months had gotten colder and they traveled upon open plains so (Y/N) stayed in her wolf form. It was easier for the time being. And it was in this shape that she came bounding towards the ranger that she had not seen in a while.

She jumped up upon him, knocking him to the ground as she had once done to Legolas. She plastered wet slobbery licks upon his face as his chest rumbled with laughter.

The elf could not help but feel a pang of jealous encase his heart. He had grown to develop feelings for the shifter as they had grown close over their journey.

Just as he felt bound to nature, he felt bound to her.

So he stood, with a fire burning in his heart, as he watched (Y/N) give canine affection to his human friend.

As the days continued on, Legolas’s irritation grew. (Y/N) strayed closer to Aragorn’s side—rubbing her face against his leg and pawing at his feet in attempt to trip him.

Of course, Aragorn could pick up on the elf’s mood and angry looks. He had thought Legolas was aware of his lover in Rivendell, but perhaps not. The Ranger had wanted to find a moment alone with the elf so he could assure him of the sibling-like relationship between him and the shifter; but with open freezing lands like this, there was no privacy.

The small trio had settled upon large rocks for the night as that was the only shelter available. They lit a brilliant fire in attempt to starve off the nipping wind, but it only did so much.

Aragorn, wrapped in blankets, had fallen asleep quite quickly; whereas Legolas sat brooding, leaning against a boulder.

It was a moment before he noticed those curious eyes on him. They twinkled with the emotions of Arda, searching his soul. With a tilted head, the wolf approached him slowly.

She crawled forward, so close that her wet nose was inches from his own. She resting one large paw upon his thigh but her weight did not hurt him.

Legolas did not move because he was taken by surprise. (Y/N), as partially human, did understand boundaries; yet, she did not seem to care about them in this instance. Instead, she studied him—up close.

The elf knew that she was searching him for answers given she had noticed his mood as well. However, Legolas did not wish to give any. Therefore, he held his porcelain elf features strong, not bending to her intimidation. He starred right back at her. Though this time, his eyes were filled with anger and frustration—and (Y/N) could tell.

Legolas was upset with her for she blatantly gave Aragorn affections.

Could she not see his heart?

He had said he would not bend to her will and intimidation. He had decided he would be cold towards her. He had made a choice—a choice that he could not uphold as he gazed into her soft eyes of nature.

Slowly, he raised a gentle hand. He brought it close to her face. When she did not pull away, he cupped the canine’s features.

To his disbelief, (Y/N) completed an action he had never seen her do before—even with Aragorn. She leaned into his touch.

Legolas’s lips parted as the moment encapsulated his mind.

He let his hand fall slowly and (Y/N) leaped off his lap. But she did not scamper off in a different direction. Instead, she ducked into his side and curled up against him. She let her head rest on his lap.

Cautiously, Legolas began to stroke her soft, (h/c) fur. He let the short strands slip through his fingers, lulling her to sleep.

.....

When Legolas woke, (Y/N) was not in his sights. He sent a confused expression towards Aragorn who was tending to the dwindling flames.

“She will be back,” the Ranger stated simply.

The elf stood and walked towards Aragorn. “Where did she go?”

The ranger shrugged while biting back a smile.

Legolas frowned at his playful expression, “I know you know something, Aragorn.”

The man raised his brows. “I woke sometime in the night. You and (Y/N) seemed quite close.” He paused, the tone of his voice changing, “You know, she never lets anyone touch her like that.”

“Never have you....?” Legolas let his sentence trail off as the ranger shook his head.

Aragorn spoke again, “My heart rests with another.”

Their conversation was cut short by a feminine voice. “Have either of you seen my cloak?”

Legolas’s head snapped in the direction of the sound for it had been long since (Y/N) was in her human form.

The shifter stood before them shivering slightly in her clothes. They were clearly not fit for the freezing air as the fabric was thin—so thin that her the curve of her breasts and nipples was easily seen.

Legolas adverted his eyes and instantly began to ruffle through his bag as he spoke with concern in his tone. “(Y/N), why have you shifted to your human form? Did you not say it was safer for you to travel through this weather as a wolf?”

She sighed, “It is harder to communicate in my animal form.”

Both of the men knew what she was alluding to.

Legolas cleared his throat and pulled out a couple fabrics from his bag. “I have been carrying your cloak.” He moved towards her as he continued speaking. “Wear this as well. It is an elvish tunic weaved from my homeland; it will keep you warm.”

“Legolas, you don’t ha—“

He shook his head, “Please, I insist.”

(Y/N) reluctantly took it and pulled the fabric over her head. She frowned as she handled the wrap around ties, not quite able to figure out how they were supposed to lay.

The elf smiled softly, “Here, let me.”

Ever so gently he took the extra fabric in his hands and begun to weave it around her form. He tied the delicate cloths in a simple knot before moving to fasten her cloak under her chin.

“Thank you, Legolas.”

He tucked a stray hair behind her ear, “It is no problem.”

He turned to gather his belongings as they were to continue their way through Arda. However, as he did so, Aragorn shot him an amused playful look. The elf sent him a sharp glare in retribution.

.....

Within a couple days, a winter storm hit the group. Luckily, they were not far from a human town which they gratefully took refuge in. Of course, as they busted into the inn, many weird looks were thrown their direction. It was not often this area was crossed by elves and rangers—and skin changers, but they were unaware of (Y/N)’s less than human nature.

They each paid for a room and took time to settle into the warmth.

Legolas rested on the edge of the cot, fiddling with one of his blades. He had let his thoughts wander to a place he had been avoiding. A bond with nature was one thing he knew deep within his soul, but a bond with another was something untouched and left uncovered. Of course he had had acquaintances with friends and family; however, the bond he was debating over was one with a lover. He knew where his heart craved to be, yet he was unsure how to proceed.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the frame of his open door.

Legolas looked up to see (Y/N). She was wearing fresh clothing, likely washed and pressed by a maid. All the filth and grim had been scrubbed from her skin and her wet hair was pulled into a tight braid.

“(Y/N),” he stated simply. “Is something wrong?”

She shook her head as she stepped into his room, “Well, not entirely.”

Legolas frowned at that comment.

The shifter walked closer until she stood only a foot from the elf.

He looked up into her vibrant eyes with question.

(Y/N) cleared her throat as she gently placed something soft and neatly folded into his hands. “Thank you for lending me your extra tunic.”

He smiled softly at her, “Won’t you need it again when we depart? The weather isn’t getting warmer anytime soon.”

A light chuckle rumbled in her chest and she shook her head in response.

Legolas placed the fabric next to him and looked up at her again. He did not notice he was staring until she whispered his name.

“Legolas, why do you do that?”

He tilted his head trying to hid his embarrassment, “What do you mean?”

Her teeth scraped her bottom lip, “Why do you look at me like that?”

The elf adverted his gaze, “My apologizes. I did not mean to offend you—“

(Y/N) interrupted him, “It is not an offense.” She sighed before speaking again. “You look at me like you marvel at nature—as if I am something so breath taking.”

“You are.” He frowned, “Do you not think so of yourself?”

The woman did not say a word; instead, she shifted her vision to the floor.

Legolas reached outwards and took her hand in his own. “You are breath taking, (Y/N)—even more so than nature.”

She shook her head, “I—I don’t understand.”

Legolas could not hold back any longer. He knew he needed to explain what he meant but no words could formulate such a thing. Therefore, he gave into his impulses and did the only thing he could think of to demonstrate it. The elf pulled her into him and grasped her cheeks with his hands. Legolas drew her face downward and smashed his lips against hers. When she did not reiterate any action he instantly pulled away. Had he taken a step too far?

“Legolas,” she breathed out in a whisper.

“I...I am sorry...I didn’t—“

She shook her head and clasped his cheeks, bringing his mouth to hers once again. Their lips moved together like the rhythmic dance of the wind—swirling and intertwining with eagerness. Legolas could taste the essence of Arda upon her lips—the sweet honey from east of the Anduin, the fresh berries from the region of Eriador, the bitter nuts from the mountains of Angmar. (Y/N) moved her body in-between his legs, but she decided that that was not close enough. So, she lifted herself into his lap, letting his calloused hands encircle her waist and hold her steady. She could feel the warmth of sparking fires, the comfort of soft wool, the shield of shelter from harsh winds. Legolas laid down upon the bed, pulling her form with him. He could hear the pounding of her heart and the gasps of her breath. Every sound she made did not escape him, it fueled him. (Y/N) tangled her fingers in his blonde locks and smiled against his lips for she recognized every aspect of nature within the elf, for it was in her too. It was the essence of Arda.

.....

Everything Tag: @sokkasdarling @scxundress @quilledinkpen @hufflepuffinblr @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary @swimming-in-stardust

Legolas Tag: @dark-angel-is-back @mylittle-escapingdreams @arandomfandomblog @moriamithril

#lord of the rings #lotr #the hobbit #legolas #aragorn #Legolas x reader #Legolas fic #legolas one shot #legolas drabble #legolas imagines #legolas one shots #legolas imagine #mirkwood #lotr fanfic #lotr fanfiction

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theowlhouseheadcanons · 3 years

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So what are the Beta's personalities? I don't think there is a guide. All I know is Luz is a Bustard, Amity is pure bred bitch and Willow is S M U G.

Okay, I have two options: do you want the detailed, serious answer or the over-simplified, stupidish answer? Choose wisely.

Painfully detailed:

All we “canonically” know about them, apart from the designs, is their heavier approach to darker, maybe punk/goth vibes - a lead to all the content the fandom produced so far, creating all kinds of creative views about their characters.

If we take a look to Dana´s unrelated artworks, it's a mix of grim bizarrice with mundane and/or wholesome character remarks that makes the odd creations seem… relatable and emphatic, or at least curious enough to make you crook your neck in contemplation. There is also this faint feeling of madness and gloom (with different variations depending on the piece), but they all seem consistent within the big picture.

Overall, they appeal for complexity, and this is where I think the Betas stand - with deep roots on dark humor too. So, after making this boastful analysis of Dana´s art that nobody asked for, let's get to them.

Amity:

As her canon version, she's a character with layers (and masks, depending on the company she might be bearing at the time).

At first impression, she might seems cold and uninterested, with sarcasm being her favorite tool in conversation; Amity makes the effort to keep most people around her at distance to avoid creating unnecessary attachments, so she´ll come off as rude and selfish - but if you hang around enough or prove you have some guts and values, she might take a liking; And once you become friends, you´ll never meet someone more loyal;

She doesn't mind breaking rules – especially her mother's rules – for the sake of entertainment and for helping her friends. She's a fan of pranks and deception, but do not mistake her impetus for recklessness: Amity plays clever to guarantee he reputation remains intact for the right people (leaving the ones who knows her true ways crawling under their skin (enemies) or smirking at her (friends));

She's not one who easily share personal information, reserving her deeper feelings and worries to a scarce number of people;

She won't back down from discussions, and if she feels like something or someone is crossing any lines of her (surprisingly existing) "moral code" she won't leave it alone until she gives a final word on it (besides, she loves the taste of victory, and hate when the ones she cares get hurt in any sense); She fights with words that hit exactly on people's weak spots, but if she's irritated enough she might put her destructive magic to some use (as a threat);

In school, her notes are good (although she can easily make them better if she just puts in the effort) and if the teachers don't insist on pushing some expected behavior towards her, and instead work with her “flexible learning process”, she won't bother. Actually, if she takes interest in the class, she´ll deepen discussions with interesting topics and good criticism, making teachers raise their eyebrows on her competence. But, if for some reason the schoolmaster gets on a tight spot with Amity, she´ll make sure every minute of their class feels a bit closer to hell :)

(One might imagine how polemic Beta Amity must be among the faculty)

When she's not idly hanging with Boscha and the girls, she can be spotted sauntering alone in the corridors, wearing the portrait of Boredom on her face that keeps most people at distance. The only individual that doesn´t appear to be affected by her subtle threatening aurea is Willow: as anything odd and potentially entertaining, Willow conquered Amity´s attention enough to mold a friendship with her. They work pretty well together, with Willow´s centred personality balancing off Amity's fiery behavior. Hanging out with Willow feels both relaxing and exciting, as she never knows what new “job” her friend might be up to - and she's always down to tag along on her quests;

Willow:

Willow is an intriguing kid – and I'm not talking about her dubious choice of fashion or her ability to keep a poker face to everything and everyone while absorbing more details and information than anyone in the room – everyone that knows her agrees with that definition. And everyone knows her; Why? Well...

Her irreducible dedication and unbiased expertise in the bizarre and all sorts of knowledge makes her a handy option for those who need to get some job done and they don't know who else to call. Her almost obsessive curiosity for everything keeps her constantly busy with some experiment, project or investigation;

She displays the minimum respect to people around her and seems genuinely unbothered by social dramas and average teen stuff; Interacting with Willow might feel awkward or incredibly interesting as she has the habit of infodumping and calling attention to random details in the environment (and you'll never know what's going on her mind); ~Her humor is a little morbid too~

She's the kind of person you can hang out alot but if you put some thought on it you'll get shocked how little you know about them – Willow doesn't have a problem with sharing, but she'll only do when requested;

And besides, she rather have the company of plants and herself (a fact she more show than tell), because neither of them will delay her plans or interrupt them with spontaneous cases of *looks down on notes* needing help; (but don't worry, if she's your friend, she will help)

Willow will defy rules only if she knows there won't be bad consequences for her and her "partners in crime" – and she might not share that part with them sometimes so they won't get comfortable enough to mess up;

Luz:

The main common thing between Beta and Canon Luz is their contagious energy and righteous mind: they're always ready to have a good time while being able to help someone; The main difference, I guess, is that Beta Luz has a more flexible moral on methods she might use to do "good";

She never skips the calls for adventure, even the ones that presents potential dangers (which she generally doesn't take note until it's too late) making her a magnet for trouble;

Her friends are so used to her shenanigans that Luz doesn't need more than a look to have them sighing "what have you done this time?"

She's a sporty girl, but also a lover of video games and anime and trying new stuff – which once again, might be a call for danger;

She's friendly but can't help her passive aggressive humor, which can gets sharp depending on her mood; Aggression and offences are a last case resource, unless we're talking about bad guys; She might be down to break rules if it is necessary for doing good, but overall she rather leave law undisturbed; She doesn't mind taking "alternative" ways to achieve her goals, but she draws a line on cheating – and that buys her some heated discussions with Amity;

Luz swears she tries to not get involved in people's business but she never thinks twice before calling people out when they're being unnecessarily bad or rude. Actually, she has the habit of acting before thinking – the main pillar of her troublemaker reputation;

With all that, one might think she's reckless and slow in catching things up – which is not a lie, but that doesn't mean she can't be responsible: she always keep her promises and is committed to following deadlines and conditions – and I'm not sure if this is the place to add, but she's pretty good with children! For Amity's amusement

In sum (simple version):

#that was fun #what do you guys think?#the owl house #the owl house headcanons #toh #amity blight #the owl house luz #luz noceda #the owl house amity #the owl house willow #toh asks #toh luz #toh amity #toh willow #beta amity #beta luz #beta willow

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1994sunflower · 4 years

Text

heaven to you. (m.c)

pairing: michael clifford x reader

genre: smut, fluff, angst (if you squint)

word count: 8.1k

involves: bad boy!michael, college!au, jealous!michael, established relationship, a lot of cursing, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, daddy kink (really mild), choking, dirty talk, pain kink (slight), size kink, thigh riding, face slapping (consensual), hair pulling, spitting kink, throat fucking, impregnation kink, praise, degredation/name calling, innocence kink, virgin kink (kinda), smoking, mentions of drugs/drinking, maybe more but nothing too big just pretty filthy ngl

summary: your high school classmates come over to michael’s house in hopes of being friends with the famous bad boy on campus. this includes your one-sided high school crush that may not have been so one-sided after all. unfortunately for him, michael is not someone to piss off. fortunately for you, michael’s anger and jealousy isn’t always so bad, at least for you.

part two

“Tell me again why we’re going to this guy’s house?” Justin asked his two childhood friends. At least, they were up until high school. Now, as they went to different colleges, they felt more like strangers. But that was part of the reason he took the multi-state trip down to their university: to mend that rift.

“We’ve been telling you man, Michael is the man on campus to be friends with.” Chris punched one of his hands into his other palm for emphasis.

Charlie nodded beside Chris, both standing in front of their front door, ready to go. “He gets into the best parties, gets the hottest chicks and is the most feared guy on campus.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Justin raised his eyebrows.

Chris opened the door, shaking his head. “Yeah, dude. No one messes with him because he’ll beat the shit out of them.”

“He’s done it a few times already.” Charlie added.

“There’s rumors he used to be involved in a gang or something and that’s why he’s like that. Either way though, he gets whatever he wants.”

Justin’s lips curled up a bit in disgust. He came from a wealthy background, wealthy family and wealthy school. Though he never let that get to his head and he never looked down on someone because of it, this stark contrast to his normality was difficult to shrug off.

But he did as he followed both Charlie and Chris out.

Charlie was still raving about ‘Michael’ as they walked out of the cramped dorm room to the unfamiliar winding paths of their university. “I mean, imagine being friends with him. You’ll get all the benefits he gets.”

“I’m sorry, if you aren’t friends with him, how are we going to his house?” Justin trailed behind the two slightly.

Chris looked back, “Turns out his best friend is in my accounting class and he invited us over to play video games. How lucky is that?”

“Yeah, lucky.” Justin looked away. He wasn’t going to admit that as they crossed the street across the student union, the whole concept of meeting someone with a reputation as rough as this Michael character was daunting and just a bit scary. In fact, it didn’t take a genius to look at the three boys all wearing vineyard vines khakis and polos, and know they didn’t mesh well with what he supposed Michael was like.

They didn’t even mesh well with the college neighborhood they were entering. The small houses looked worn and crumbled down and the streets were even worse. The only thing that calmed his nerves was the knowledge that the scariest people on the block were tired college students.

“Have you even talked to him before?” Justin kept asking questions to calm himself down and stop himself from looking around at the neighborhood in disdain.

Charlie shrugged, “I talked to him at a party once, he didn’t say much though.”

Chris smirked, “I walked with him to class once.” He paused. “Well, I was walking with his friend, Ashton? And he joined. But it still felt cool. Everyone was staring and making way for us - well him”

They filled in all the holes in knowledge of Michael. How he never lost a fight (even though he was involved with them often - evidenced by his perpetual bloody knuckles), how he rarely went to class (and when he did, how he sat alone, always), how his fashion consisted of black, chains and more black and finally, how he would go home with a different girl every party (but how that didn’t happen anymore as he had a girlfriend, though her identity to them remained a mystery).

Justin nodded as he listened. But as more and more was added to the infamous Michael, he felt less and less inclined to meet him.

Time, however, to turn back had run out. Because as his friends turned into a rubble pathway leading up to an equally rubble house, he knew he was about to be face to face with the myth, the legend, Michael himself.

The things he would do for his friends. If he didn’t hold such a sentimental place in his heart for the boys he had grown up with, he definitely wouldn’t be there, standing in front of a (turning green) door, waiting for an answer. They were different, it was obvious in high school that they had become different types of men; he valued education, science, and was a romantic at heart while they valued alcohol, parties and were willing to screw anything they found ‘hot’.

But that didn’t deter him from valuing their friendship.

It occurred to him that the only thing his friends had failed to fill him in on was Michael’s appearance. So, when the door opened and a boy slightly shorter than even Chris, the shortest of them (though Justin was 6’5 and Charlie was 6’0 so really, Chris being 5’11 wasn’t that short) and messy brown curls covering his head and forehead, he was shocked to say the least.

But that didn’t last long as Chris dapped him. “Ashton! What’s up man?”

Ashton smiled big and nodded in acknowledgement to the rest of them. “Nothing much bro, took you a while.” But he moved back into the small house, a signal of welcome for them to come in but close the door behind them.

So, as Chris and Charlie followed Ashton in, talking about who knows what, Justin made sure to shut and lock the door before trailing behind.

The house was bigger than he pictured in his mind. The living room and kitchen were divided by only a pillar and the counter. But it was spacious enough to fit a flat screen (granted, it was on the floor) and a black winding couch (granted, it had cracks all over it). The only light came from the kitchen and the tv, which was set to the beginning of the game.

Ashton already sat down on the couch, grabbing a game controller casually from behind him. He was wearing a black t-shirt that had it’s sleeves cut off to the point where you could see his whole side torso through the giant holes. His gray jeans were equally ripped and Justin was sure his shoes would be too, if he were wearing any but just gray socks adorned his feet. He had spiked bracelets on his left wrist. Maybe this was the reason his slightly tanned, innocent face looked strange. His big eyes and friendly smile was a stark juxtaposition to the rest of his body.

Chris looked around as his large figure slumped beside Ashton, “Where’s Michael?”

Ashton didn’t look at him when he answered, “In his room with his girl. He’ll be out soon, I think. That is if they don’t start going at it.”

Charlie laughed as he sat on the other side of Ashton, picking up a controller from the ground. Justin was left to sit awkwardly on the edge of the couch, closest to the kitchen. He felt out of place, just like he suspected and it didn’t help the darkness that surrounded the room, even through the lit kitchen and blue tv screen.

He didn’t get to think much on it, though, because not a few minutes after he sat down, did the bedroom door behind the couch open up. Light streamed into the dimly lit room.

Justin stood. It was a force of habit, really. He was used to standing up whenever someone knew came into the room to introduce himself. But when no one else stood, with Ashton not even bothering to look behind him, he felt awkward. It was too late to sit back down, though.

Charlie and Chris looked back, though, with big grins. “Hey, Michael! What’s up, man?” They said as if they were close friends.

And thus, Justin came face to face with Michael himself. And this time, he looked exactly like what he expected.

Michael was towering, though his height was nearly equal to Justin’s. His shoulders so broad that they nearly filled up the entire doorway of his bedroom. His t-shirt was plain black and so were his jeans, which had three chains adorning them. Two sleeves of tattoos ran down both of his arms to his hands and fingers , one of his hands reading F U C K in big bold letters, with a few peeking out on his neck as well. His black messy hair matched him well and fell onto his forehead.

But through that intimidating appearance, none of those things were what caught Justin’s attention. No, it was Michael’s eyes that did it. Though they were light in color, somehow they still seemed dark. The coldness in them was frightening. There was no hint of warmth, of friendliness, in them. In fact, as Michael held direct eye contact, saying nothing at the still standing Justin, the aggression his eyes held was enough to make Justin take a step back.

It was that step that seemingly broke the trance Michael had put him in. Because just like that, Michael looked away and moved forward into the living room. He nodded in acknowledgement at Chris and Charlie, still silent, before shouldering past Justin to go to the kitchen. He grabbed a bottled beer, opening it with his bare hand on his way back.

Justin was going to sit back himself as he saw Michael head to the couch but was stopped by a second, much smaller figure exiting Michael’s room.

The girl was petite, especially compared to Michael, standing at a proud 5’1. Her straight black hair was parted down the middle and hung perfectly over her shoulders. She wore a dainty white sunflower dress that contrasted beautifully with her olive skin which made her, along with her kind smile and bright brown eyes, look like the epitome of innocence. Quite the distinction from Michael who seemed to personify danger.

She was beautiful.

And she was his good friend.

“Y/N?”

Your legs were stationed at each side of Michael’s torso as you straddled him. Your hands were cupping his face and while one of his hands was on your ass while the other was gripping your long hair, pulling just enough for it to be pleasurable.

Your mouths melded into each others deeply and you couldn’t tell which one of you were more desperate for the other. You’d been making out for a while and your body was on fire. You felt like his touch was both burning you and exactly what needed at the same time.

It only took one slow grind of your hips against his that did it for him. He flipped you over so that you landed directly on one of his thighs, the chains of his jeans rattling in the process. His body was flush to yours, you could feel his hardness against you.

You looked up at him with wide innocent eyes, just how you knew he liked it. And you were awarded with a deep groan and a taunting smile before his lips returned to your body, this time to your neck. You moved your head to give him more access and as he got more into it, sucking and biting, you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped. You knew he was going to leave a mark (probably many) because he liked to have something that claimed you as his.

One of his hands wandered to your lower body, traveling under your flimsy dress to flip it over. He gave your ass a swat to command you to move. He didn’t have to tell you twice. Your hips starts moving, slowly at first against his jean-clad thigh. But as the pleasure started to build up at the friction, you began moving faster, desperately, moaning loudly.

Michael watched you silently, a smirk on his face. The only touch was his hands on your hips, guiding your pace and your movements. Otherwise, he just watched you get off on him.

“Did you wear this dress for me?” You nodded desperately against him, wanting nothing more than push against his finger but knew better.

His hand pulled your hair harshly, hard enough that it hurt but that just made you moan louder. “I asked you a question.” He growled, he had begun to move his leg up and down, making everything that much pleasurable.

Fuck. “Y-Yes, all for you, daddy.”

“Good girl.” Was all he said before his lips claimed yours again. His kisses were fervent as he bit and sucked on your bottom lip. Your hips were still moving violently against his thigh and you could feel your climax start to build up. It was almost too hot for you to handle. But you could tell he was going to give you what you wanted soon.

Or he was. A loud banging came from his bedroom door across the room. “They’re here!” Ashton’s voice rang to you from behind the door.

You sighed deeply as you pulled away from Michael and away from your release. Michael groaned and fell, face first, into the mattress. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Maybe later.” You giggled, pushing him up to lay on his back. He looked up at you and a mischievous smile, the one you had grown to love, adorned his face.

“Or we can continue.” His hand was already reaching to your wrist to pull you up to straddle him again but you held back, shaking your head.

“Mikey, you have guests.” But still, you leaned over and pecked his lips quickly.

Michael groaned again, this time out of annoyance. “Fuck them. I don’t even know who they are, they’re Ashton’s friends.”

You smiled at his attitude. Your hand was tracing his neck, following the ink lines. It was a vulnerable position he was in, and something he only ever allowed you to do. When he was with you, it was so easy to forget how different he was with other people. How mean he could be. It was almost comical to see the difference in how he was right then to what he was just a few minutes ago.

“Be nice.” You chastised. “They’re here for you too, don’t bother trying to kid yourself.”

You heard Michael whine, “Come on, baby girl.” He took a hold of your wrist again. As he pushed himself up to a sitting position, he easily towered over you and he used that to his advantage. Pushing you against the wall next to his bed, he cupped one of your cheeks. His hand took up much of that side of your face, “Let me get you off.” His voice was deep with want.

You’d be a liar if you said that you weren’t wet. The way he was looking at you, the way you felt so small in front of him, you wanted to let him do whatever he wanted with you. But as you heard the front door close, you couldn’t. Not only would it be embarrassing because you were never quiet, Michael made sure of that, but it would be impolite.

Michael would never admit it but you both knew the guests were here for him. He was somewhat of a legend throughout the campus, especially among frat boys and wannabes. No matter your disdain for people like that, they came all this way for him.

So you pushed against his chest just slightly, knowing that would be enough for Michael to let you go. And when he sighed and moved away, you got up from his bed and moved to where there was a mirror hanging next to his closet. Your hair was a mess and so was your makeup. You looked fucked out and you were in awe for a moment at how Michael managed to make you this way with just a make out session and a dry hump.

Fixing yourself, you couldn’t help but smile at the pouting boy, still cross armed on his bed. Turning to him, you motioned for him to get up. “Come on Mikey.”

He stood and immediately, you had to crane your neck to look up at his big height. Even his shoulders engulfed your entire figure. Michael knew what he did to you so it wasn’t much a surprise when you felt one of his hands wrap themselves around your neck, the one with his bruised knuckles, but not hard. “After this, you’re mine.”

You think your smile was enough to tell him how excited you were at that prospect.

Michael gave you a weak smile. He didn’t tend to smile much, even when it was just the two of you. In fact, except the fact that he was a lot chattier and warmer with you, he was still always in his head and rarely expressed much emotion outside of bed besides anger, horniness and the rare affection. But you were okay with that. Your emotions were enough for the two of us.

He gave you peck on the lips, “I’ll see you out there.”

You nodded up at him, smiling before going back to fixing your makeup and adjusting your dress. Ashton had a couple of friends over ever now and then. Most, if not all, coming to see Michael. Though, you tried to not be there whenever they came over, Michael seemed to prefer it for you to be with him. To give him something to actually look forward to. He hated meeting new people and he hated their interest in him. He was popular without wanting to be. So you were often there to remedy that and you became the center of his world in those moments. Though, really, that was how you were most of the time you were with him.

Only a few minutes passed after he left the room that you followed him out.

But as soon as you left the room, you stopped when you saw someone standing in the living room, looking at you. In that same instance, you recognized him. Justin. A good friend from high school and an even better human being.

As your name left his mouth you grinned, coming closer to hug him. It had been so long, years, actually. The last you saw him was at your graduation when you swore you’d miss him. And you had. After all, he was the boy that plagued your heart all throughout high school - not that he’d known.

“Justin!” The hug was quick and you had to get on your tip toes to do it. You could tell he was just as surprised to see you. He was smiling wide and his eyebrows were shot high like they did whenever he was interested in something.

But just as soon as you pulled away, the weirdness of the situation seeped in, “What are you doing here?”

Justin blinked as if he, too, just became aware of the weird circumstance you were meeting in. “I, uh” He scratched the back of his head, unsure of how to answer and gestured to the couch. “I came with Chris and Charlie.”

Your brows furrowed further as you glanced at the couch where, sure enough, your high school classmates sat, looking back at you. They waved, slightly confused. You tried to ignore the fact that even Ashton had torn his eyes away from the tv to stare at you two. Which, considering how hard it was to take Ashton away from his video games, was saying something.

All you could think was that you wanted to crawl into a hole. The boys that you always said peaked in high school and made you so upset when they transferred to your university were now at your boyfriend’s house, trying to be his friends. It was truly a worst case scenario.

Excluding Justin. It’d been so long since you saw him, it felt nice to be in his presence again. You appreciated him as a person and the kindness he radiated - even to you, someone so much lower in economic status than him.

“But I thought you went to Washington?” You fiddled with one of your bracelets as you spoke.

Justin nodded, stiffly. “I do, we’re just on Spring Break a few weeks before you so I thought I’d visit.”

You smiled, “You should’ve gotten in touch!”

You think the situation had gotten a hold of him because while he otherwise would be rambling on with questions and stories, Justin had gotten quiet. “But why are you here?”

You blinked. Now you felt uncomfortable. It was as if you finally noticed everyone’s eyes on you, including Michael’s glaring ones. Yeah, this is definitely the last time you were going to be there when someone else was coming over.

Ashton turned back to the tv and scoffed, “Please, she practically lives here.”

Your nose crinkled when you smiled and made your way to Michael, who had taken a seat and motioned you into his lap. You shrugged, looking at your high school classmates. “This is my boyfriend’s house.”

Justin sat down slowly, his eyes just as wide as Chris and Charlie’s. Most people on campus knew you were Michael’s girlfriend. So the shocked reaction had been diminishing. You were almost starting to become used to not seeing it.

Almost.

You don’t really blame them. You are very different. Michael is aggressive, angry and cold while you tended to be bubbly, shy and school-oriented. But that’s what you liked about each other. You just fit so well together. Opposites attract, right?

Ashton spoke up again, knowing Michael would likely not talk the entire reunion if he could help it. “How do you know each other?”

You took one of Michael’s hands in yours, your hand looking almost minature in his large one, and traced the tattoos you loved so much, “We went to high school together.”

Ashton nodded, “Oh the private one?”

Charlie nodded, glancing at Michael before looking at you, “I didn’t know you were dating Michael Clifford.”

You smiled weakly, we’re not friends, that’s why you didn’t know is what you wanted to say.

Michael took a chug of the glass bottled beer in his hands. It was like a silent signal because after, the three boys began playing their game.

You made a grab for the beer but Michael moved it out of your reach, his free hand slapping the side of your thigh in warning.

Your eyes widened. “Michael!” You hissed under your breath. Not in front of everyone. But he just stared at you, unsmiling. The only hint of humor came from his twinkling eyes.

He didn’t like you trying anything he was into: drugs, cigarettes, weed, alcohol. It was all off limits to you and he made sure everyone knew it. It was his way to preserve your innocence, even if dating him made that seem sort of like a paradox. Sometimes, though, it was fun to mess with him even if you were never interested in actually experimenting with the things he did.

“So, Michael…” You were brought out of your own little world by Charlie. “Are you going to Epsilon’s party tonight?”

“No.” Came Michael’s curt reply, his thumb drawing lazy circles on your arm.

Ashton was the one who saved the moment (and Charlie’s feelings) by filling in Michael’s blanks. You think that’s why they were such good friends. “Michael hates parties. He’d rather be here with Y/N and do it like bunnies.”

You weren’t sure if you wanted to die or if you wanted to kill Ashton. Maybe both.

Because as soon as those words left his mouth to your high school classmates - and high school crush - you felt your face heat up. You didn’t have to look to know that Michael was smirking.

You saw Justin blush and look away and for a moment, you felt worse. There was something about feeling completely humiliated in front of someone you hold at such a high regard that does that to you.

Ashton and Chris both exclaimed at something on the tv at the same time your phone chimed. You unlocked it to read the text.

kelly (stats)

hey girl! are you on campus? i’m at the library and wanted to see if you wanted to work on the project.

The project. It was due in a few weeks and while you had finished your portion, the rest of it was definitely not done. You sighed, knowing you’d have to go and lose the rest of your day with Michael.

You felt Michael shift under you, moving up from his slouched position to be able to read your text fully. He kissed your shoulder when he did.

“I’ll be right back.” You whispered to which he nodded. You got up from his lap and moved to the kitchen, moving to call Kelly and sort out the details.

“Hello?”

Justin’s eyes followed your movements as you left to the kitchen, though certainly not missing the way Michael’s hollow eyes watched his every move. Michael, sitting slouched, didn’t even stop staring when he took a chug of his beer, the red of his healing bloody knuckles on full display.

Justin definitely understood what made Michael so scary on campus. What he couldn’t understand is why Y/N was with him. Sweet, innocent Y/N. Had you changed so much in three years that this is who you would fall for?

He could feel Michael radiate hostility but Michael remained quiet, simply choosing to observe Justin, which somehow seemed more terrifying.

When you came back into the room, Justin actively tried not to watch you. He kept his eyes on the tv with his only glimpse of you being your bottom half as you walked by him, your dress falling to just below your mid thigh. He couldn’t help but listen to his friend’s chiming voice as you spoke in a lower tone.

“I’m going to go to the library to finish up a project.” He couldn’t hear what Michael answered, if he even answered. But he heard you continue. “No, I might just walk. It’s still light out. I’ll call you when I’m heading back.”

Then, as if the afternoon didn’t already feel surreal enough, he saw you out of the corner of his eye, bend down and plant a kiss to Michael’s lips, one of your hands were on his abdomen, holding you up. It almost felt jarring to witness. Not only to see Michael allowing such a thing but to see the girl that had taken up much of his mind, and heart, in high school willingly put herself in that position with a man like Michael. It had taken him a while this afternoon just to put the pieces together and understand that Y/N was Michael’s girlfriend but to see it laid out in front of him was disturbing nonetheless.

When you straightened up again, you regarded the boys in front of you with the kind smile Justin knew so well. “I’m heading out, nice to see you guys again.” Though you didn’t really sound like you meant it.

Justin didn’t think his next actions through. All he was thinking was that it was an out. An out to leave this house that made him so uncomfortable and an out to not be in the same room as Michael without you to mend the tension.

So he stood up without much thought, “I’ll head out with you.” And as the words left his mouth, he wanted to take them back immediately. They came out wrong. He knew it and so did everyone else in the room, evidenced by the pausing of the video game and the multiple set of eyes on him.

You blinked up at him, processing what he said for a moment before he quickly added, “I mean, I left my phone back at Chris’ room so I was going to leave anyway. I was just thinking I’d give you some company.” That didn’t sound any better either.

But he trudged through the awkwardness of his phrasing by refusing to look at Michael. Justin had a feeling that would make everything a million times worse.

But you didn’t fail him, “Oh, sure.” You smiled warmly, looking back at Michael quickly before moving towards Justin and the door, “We can catch up on the way.”

Chris and Charlie were looking at him with wide eyes as he left, likely cursing him out in their heads for messing up any chance they had at being Michael’s friends. But as he followed his friend back out to the open world, outside of the dark and cramped house, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

You looked up at the tall blond boy beside you as you walked down the sidewalk that would lead back to campus. You were still in awe that he was there beside you, walking and talking to you after so long. Well, not so much talking. You think he was still up in his head about the situation.

“So did you really leave something in Chris’ dorm room?” You smiled knowingly up at him.

To which he let out a chuckle and lowered his head sheepishly, “No, I…I just had to get out of there.”

You nodded like you understood, which you did. You talked a lot when we were in high school and you knew his limits, what he was used to. “Yeah, I know that house can be a lot for some people.”

“It’s just cramped.”

You didn’t say it but that kind of bothered you. It wasn’t a mansion and while it wasn’t exactly nice, it was cozy and it felt like home. Michael made it feel like home. But you knew Justin couldn’t see it that way. He was the richest boy in high school, after all. And popular because of it. Though, looking back, you couldn’t think of a time where he had let that get to his head.

“So, you and Michael, huh?” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his khakis and looked over at you. His blue eyes clouding with worry.

Now, it was your turn to chuckle. “Yeah. It’s okay, a lot of people have the same reaction.”

“It’s just different, I guess. Have you heard his reputation at all?”

You got on the bus that would lead straight to the middle of campus at that point and found two seats right next to each other.

You nodded, “I guess. But Michael…Michael’s different from what you think. He can be sweet. You just have to get to know him.” You tried to tame the big loving smile that was threatening to explode at the thought of Michael, the version of him that you knew. You were well aware of how vicious and even cruel he could be, gaining him the rumors that constantly swirled around him and now even you. But he wasn’t like that with you.

“I heard he’s in a gang.” Justin whispered.

Your eyes shot up at him in alarm, “Of course he’s not.” Unfounded rumors like that did bother you, they whittled down all of Michael’s past struggles to be theatrical entertainment for those looking in, not to mentioned demonized him even further for no reason. Though they never really bothered Michael, you had too much respect both for him and for yourself to be okay with them.

“I just don’t think I expected him to be your type.” He explained, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Well he wasn’t, not at first.” You calmed down and instead bit your inner cheek, trying to decide whether you should let him in on your little secret. “Actually, you were my type. I had a huge crush on you in high school…”

“What?-”

“…Don’t worry, I’m over it now.” you quickly added in when you I felt him freeze behind you in surprise. It was embarrassing but it didn’t make much sense keeping it from him anymore.

“I had no idea.” His voice dripped with honesty. He pulled at the collar of his polo shirt.

You shrugged, “I made sure of that. I don’t know, you were just so nice to me even though you were so out of my league. You were rich, popular but so respectful and socially aware. Plus you weren’t a republican.” You laughed before looking down, “And I was the shy scholarship kid.”

It was obvious Justin was trying to think of what to say so you helped him out, “But you know three years of college really changes you. I’m a lot more outspoken now and I found a great boyfriend.”

Justin nodded, still seemingly shocked, “That’s great.” His voice was soft and, as you made eye contact, there was something more in his eyes that you couldn’t read.

But you didn’t have to think of it much because you got to our destination and you both made your way off the bus, onto the campus you loved so much.

“Okay, I guess I’ll see you around?” You were already moving back slowly, desperate to get to the library quickly so you could head back to Michael faster.

Justin nodded, not moving to go to the dorms, “Yeah, I’ll be here for two weeks or so.”

You practically skipping when you reached Michael’s house again. The sun had set and part of you were upset at how long it had taken you in the library. But as you opened the door to Michael’s room and saw him laying on his bed, headphones on and wearing a black hoodie with only the tattoos on his hands peeking out, those feelings disappeared and were replaced with much more primal feelings.

Michael, slipping off his headphones gently, seemed to mirror your feelings because just a bending of his index finger in a ‘come here’ motion, was enough to have you closing the door behind you and nearly jumping onto him.

You were smiling but asked before anything else, “Ashton-?” You always felt bad he had to deal with you constantly at each other with only thin walls separating Michael’s room from his.

“He went to that frat party.” Michael muttered, uninterested. His eyes were instead trailing your body, figuring out which way was best to take off your dress.

You were on all fours as you crawled your way to him, stopping when you were in between his spread legs. “You should’ve gone.” Even if you didn’t love parties, they were still a big part of who he was, before dating you he would be at them drinking the night away every other day, and a part of you felt bad for taking them away from him, even if unintentionally.

But still, he couldn’t look like he care less when he reached over and pulled your dress up to uncover your ass, his hands trailing down the curve of you sensually before giving you a small spank that made you jump in surprise. “I have better things to do.”

Now that deserved a reward. Your hand rubbed over the noticeable bulge in his jeans. Michael’s hands undid his belt, the sight of that action almost making you want to moan right then and there. Your hands trailed up to undo the button and zipper. He eagerly pushed his hips up to help you take his jeans and boxers off.

His long and thick length stood out horizontally and you felt your mouth watering already at the thought of taking him in your mouth.

One of his hands took a hold of the gold necklace you were wearing, twisting it and pulling at it to force your face closer to his.“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?”

When you first started having sex, you were shy and inexperienced. Words and talk like that would have had you shaking nervously. And while you would still likely react that way in public, with enough time with Michael and in the privacy of his room, you didn’t even blink when you answered.

“Always.” Your hand wrapped around him before you took his dick into your mouth. Michael groaned immediately and threw his head back, eyes closed. This only proved to spur you on. You took him as deep as you could, stopping only when his tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag and pull back.

But the vibrations only seemed to have him moaning louder and led to one of his hands to collect your hair and push himself back into your mouth. “Fuck that’s good, take it.”

You didn’t even notice when he had taken off his shirt and hoodie. His tattoos, which ranged from his fingers to his entire torso and neck were on full display and you felt yourself get wetter at the intricate ink that adorned his beautiful body. It was a contrast to your body that was completely bare of any tattoos.

Up until then, he was still controlled. When you looked up at him with the innocent eyes you knew drove him wild and moan against his length as you bobbed your head, his control snapped. There was something about you looking pure, especially in that angelic-looking white dress, at the same time you were doing something so dirty with him that sent him ablaze. Even more knowing that you were only like that for him.

Immediately, he tightened his grip on your hair with both hands, holding you in place. He thrust up into your mouth at a fast pace, fucking your mouth harshly. His groans increasing in volume. He thrust into your mouth deeply, your nose nearly touching his stomach, and kept himself there. Your throat closed tightly against him.

“Do you like that?” Your jaw hurt and you felt tears in your eyes as he pulled out enough for you to breath, his cock was messy with your spit. Then he continued, thrusting into your awaiting mouth and murmuring dirty nothings under his breath. You wanted to trail your hands down to your pussy to soothe the ache it had for him but you refrained. “Do you like me using your mouth like a dirty fucking slut?”

You moaned involuntarily. You needed him. You could feel yourself soaking through your panties. Michael gave a sharp tug at your hair and pulled you off of him. He tilted your head back painfully to lock his eyes with yours.

“Do you like being used like a toy?” His voice was cold and mean but it was a turn on. You nodded your head submissively and one of his hands reached down to your cheek, giving you a sharp slap. Enough for you to feel the sting and enough for it to feel good. “Open your mouth.”

You did what he said immediately. Your tongue poking out in anticipation. Michael leaned down before spitting into your mouth. You closed your eyes, moaning when you felt another slap at your cheek.

“Dirty whore.” Michael muttered under his breath before pinning you down to his bed, tearing your dress off as soon as hit the mattress and then doing the same to your bra and underwear.

Part of you wondered what had gotten into him. Being rough and kinky in bed isn’t something out of the ordinary for you two but he usually wasn’t like this out of no where. Not that you were complaining.

On all fours, you swayed your ass to him enticingly and looked behind you with a virginal smile, “Fuck me, daddy.” You said innocently.

He didn’t say anything as he flipped you over quickly and ran the head of his dick teasingly along your entrance, slapping it onto your pussy twice. A load moan of his name left your mouth when he finally entered you. He wasted no time in thrusting at a rough pace into you. Your moans were cut off and stuttered at the pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” One of Michael’s hands reached up to your throat and pressed tightly. The feeling of his inked hands around your throat amplified the pleasure. Your walls clenched around him. “No matter how many times I fuck you"

You saw his eyes be fixated on your breasts, the way they bounced up and down fully in pace with each of his thrusts. He leaned down and wrapped his warm mouth around one of tits, flicking and twirling his tongue around your nipple.

Your eyes closed involuntarily and your back arched in pleasure as he continued to slam his hips into yours. The only sounds in the room were the sound of skin slapping, your moans and his grunts.

“If only those boys could see you now, their innocent little classmate, so submissive and desperate for my cock, letting me fuck you like my bitch.” Michael’s voice was taunting and you could barely get your mind out of the haze of pleasure to question what he was talking about.

“But they’ll never see you like this. This is the only cock you’ll ever get, your first and your last. No one will ever be able to please you like I can. Do you think that blondie can make you feel this good?” You closed your eyes in pleasure, too far lost to even understand what he was saying, just shaking your head in answer. You were blushing like crazy at his words, which only served to make him thrust faster.

“Look at me.” He hissed and you did just when his thrusts’ vigor increased even more which left you whimpering and writhing underneath him. But still, you opened and kept your eyes on him, your mouth open as moans filtered out of you. “Tell me you’re mine.”

Though your mouth was open, you couldn’t formulate words. But Michael’s hands on your throat pressed harder and his other hand slapped your cheek as a warning, “Tell me.”

“Y-Yours. I’m yours, Mikey. Only yours.” His mouth was on yours in a heated kiss while his pace never faltered as he pistoned in and out of you.

“That’s right.” Michael praised, “Mine.” Then he said something he had never said before. “I’m going to knock you up, get you nice and pregnant. Everyone would know then, that you’re fucking mine.” He almost sounded delirious with the prospect.

He didn’t mean it, he couldn’t mean it. Even if he did, you were on birth control. But you moaned loader just at the thought of his love for you reaching those lengths.

“You want that, little one? Want me to fill your tight little cunt with my cum?”

A chorus of “Yes, yes, yes” left your mouth, you couldn’t speak anymore than just repeating that. The thought of being pregnant with his child and the reminder of just how small you were compared to him was enough to put you on another planet.

“H-Harder.” You were shaking as he complied with your request, his thrusts moving faster and rougher into you. Your arms wrapped themselves around his torso and scratched at his back, desperate for a way to express the nearly overwhelming pleasure you felt. He hissed in pleasure at the pain, his body above you engulfed nearly your entire figure.

“Open” His rough voice commanded and you opened your mouth obediently. Moaning again as he spit into your awaiting tongue once again.

Your throat was starting to be raw with your screaming and begging to come. “Cum for me, princess.”

You clenched your walls as you came around his big cock and that seemed to be the only thing that took for him to release after you.

He released inside you, filling you and leaking out after he pulled out. “Such a good girl.”

He was still coming when he pulled out and ribbons of cum adorned your face, which you graciously accepted. Michael watched your face and groaned to himself when you licked some of his cum off that was at the corner of your mouth and swallowed.

His eyes were closed in pleasure for a moment before he released his grip on your throat. You didn’t doubt the image before of you, blushing and covered in his cum did wonders for his libido.

He cleaned you up but you had a feeling it was just an excuse to be able to give you a passionate kiss. “You did great, baby girl. I love you.”

His praise made your heart swell. “I love you, too.”

Before you knew it, your kiss had gotten much more frenzied and his hand was trailing to your sore entrance. But you stopped before it could lead to a round two.

“I’m sore.” You mumbled before nuzzling into chest. His arms wrapped around your body protectively and kissed the top of your head, gently, so different from how rough he was just a few moments before.

You looked up at him quizzically just to see that he was already looking at you. “So, are you going to tell me what that was about?”

Michael looked genuinely confused, “What do you mean?”

You rolled your eyes, moving up so you were at eye level with him. You ran your fingers through his soft black hair, noting how his eyes fluttered at the sensation. “You know what I mean. What wound you up so bad?”

“Nothing” But at your pointed look, he sighed in defeat and muttered, “Those little rich boys. The tall one, he’s into you and I couldn’t do shit about it.”

You sputtered, “Justin?! No way is he into me.” You shook your head, giggling as you leaned back to lay your head on his shoulder. “Actually, in high school, I was the one into him.”

You probably shouldn’t have said that. You knew it as soon as Michael’s eyes hardened and his body stiffened. “What?”

Shaking your head, you stuttered out, “But I got over that years ago, he’s just a friend.”

But Michael couldn’t let it go, “You liked him and he was in my fucking house? He left with you for fucks sakes Y/N.” He moved as if he was getting up and you placed a hand on his chest to stop him (only doing so because he let you, otherwise his strength would quickly overpower yours). If he were to go after Justin, there would be little you could do to stop him from beating him to a pulp.

You kissed him deeply to calm him down because you saw his eyes start to shut down. They started to look like the same eyes he had in public, the cold, angry ones. And you couldn’t let him go there, not with you.

“We were only with each other for a few minutes, we took the bus.” You reasoned with him.

Michael locked his jaw tightly but he was starting to calm down, “That bitch ass couldn’t even look at me but I was watching him. He kept looking at you like he knew you, like he knew you how I know you.”

He looked at you then, with a mocking smirk. “Like he knew how sweet and moral you are and that you shouldn’t be with your big bad boyfriend. Too bad he didn’t see you begging to have your mouth and pussy filled by your mean boyfriend’s cock. Or that he didn’t know I was the one that took your virginity,” He moaned at the memory, “What do you think he would say if he saw innocent little Y/N like that?”

You didn’t have to be looking at him to see the delight in his bright eyes and sneering smile. It was obvious he enjoyed corrupting you.

You whined at his words, embarrassed, as if you didn’t hear much worse things come out of his mouth when you were underneath him or even when he was in fights with others.

“Are you sure Ashton isn’t home?” You changed the topic.

“He’s out.” Michael repeated, “Why, did you want him to join?”

He was teasing you, you knew he was but you whined again, blushing (something you knew he loved) and shook your head no.

He chuckled, a warm and joking chuckle, “Good, because I’m not sharing you. Remember that.”

Michael settled you in between his legs comfortably, giving you his phone to busy yourself with games or take photos. He kissed the top of your head, that reached just to his chin. Meanwhile, he grabbed a cigarette and a lighter from his nightstand, placing the white stick in his mouth and lighting it. The scent overtook your senses uncomfortably. But you were used to it so you didn’t do much besides raising your hand jokingly, to ask for a puff.

But Michael, who never took those things as a joke, squeezed your thigh. “I don’t want you getting into the shit I’m into.” He said, “I want to keep you pure for me.”

Because as much as he loved corrupting you, he loved your innocence even more.

so i think i’m going to make this into a two part series with each part having two stories involved. if that makes sense, let me know what you think!

#5sos #michael clifford smut #5sos smut #michael clifford x reader #michael clifford #bad boy smut #jealous smut #bad boy michael #luke hemmings smut #luke hemmings #calum hood #ashton irwin #calum hood smut #ashton irwin smut #5sos imagines #michael imagine #college au

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insomnihan · 3 years

Text

han’s Entire Thoughts & Feelings on Dreamcatcher’s “BEcause”

youtube

WE ARE F UCKING UNDER ATTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

there are no read mores here so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

ALRIGHT SO-

THE SONG WHERE DO I START WELL- I SAW A COMMENT SOMEWHERE THAT WAS LIKE ‘THIS HAS GOODNIGHT CREEPINESS WITH RED SUN ESSENCE’ WHOEVER THAT WAS YOUR BRAIN IS GINORMOUS™ AND WRINKLY- IF YOU LISTEN TO IT THE SLIGHT SUMMER VIBE IS TOTALLY THERE YET THE PIANO AND THE HARP (MAYBE I DUNNO BUT WHAT I DOONO IS THAT IT SLAPS) THE PRE CHORUS BUILD UP FAST AS HELL THE DRUMS ARE FAST AS S HIT THE CLOCK IS SO CREEPY THE GUITAR IS JUST ASDFFJGHLHKL;;’ THE DOUBLE TIME DURING DAMIS RAP THAT WAS LITERALLY™ AN ATTEMPT TO TAKE MY LIFE (they were this 👌 close istg) AND THEN THE BRDIGE…………………… SOMEONE TAKE THE WHEEL-

AND THEN THEIR VOICES POWERFUL AS ALWAYS AND THAT F UCKING DISTORTION S HIT DURING ‘FOREVER LOVE AND FOREVER MINE’ IS ACTUAL DR*GS- i dunno what it is but the instrumental being like that and then (to me anyway) theres such a sweet undertone (???) in how they sing and then knowing the lyrics likE I KNOW THEYRE OBSESSED- B O I DO I MISS A FAST DAMI RAP P L E A S E I FEEL LIKE SHES THREATENING ME I LOVE THAT PSYCHO NOISE B ICYJ- THAT BRIDGE IS F UCKING CRAZY SIYEONS AND HANDONGS AND YOOHYEONS GENTLE VOICES AND THEN S U A!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOUREALLYGOTTACOMEOUTOFTHELEFTGODDAMNFIELDWITHTHATICANTSTANDYOUHOWDAREYOUJUSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hello hello for the dance section i will be using THE mcountdown performance yEAH THE ONE POSTED BEFORE THE ACTUAL MV/ALBUM DROP- FIRST OF ALL THE INTRO sorry i have to talk about this theyre so creepy and doll like and jiu is so menacing lIKE WHAT THE F UCK IS THAT (someone answer me what iN THE F CUK did she feed yoohyeon)- NOW ANYWAY I HAVE THINGS TO SAY ABOUT THE ACTUAL DANCE-

OFF THE BAT THE MIRROR INTRODUCTION IS *CHEFS KISS* and then gahyeon choking jiu?????????? LORE????????? IN CHOREOGRAPHY?????????

LISTEN. L I S T E N. ALL OF THEM LIFTING YOOHYEON AT 1:29 LIKE THATS INSANE AND SO FITTING FOR THIS SONG AND VIBE plus yknow………………… handong doing a lot of the lifting………… 👉👈

this specific video doesnt show it during suas verse (which is like Rude™ but fine they show it elsewhere obv) but when shes singing and the rest of them are dropping down slowly………………… yeah-

THE CHORUS EVERY👏SINGLE👏F UCKING👏TIME👏 LIKE THE POSE THEY DO FOR ‘BE’?????????????? THE POWER AND THE GENIUS™ OF IT??????????????????????

DAMI UNHAND ME UNHOLY DEMON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the bridge…………… the rocking from side to side…………… whatever the f uck handong and yoohyeon are doing…………… it was almost like sua was controlling everyone right like deadass im scared-

THE DANCE BREAK PLS LET ME BREATHE

the ending with everyone bowing but gahyeon…………

BICTH……………… BICHY- THE VISUALS JUST KEEP LEVELING THE F UCK UP THATS LIT RALLY INSANE I LOVE THAT FOR THEM- the moment that mystery code was revealed and we were getting demented creepy carnival i waS V I B R A T I N G™ WITH EXCITEMENT the creepy scenery of the dark hotel lobby and the rundown carnival with the merry go round and teacups AND WITH A CULT and the hallway with the mirrors and the lights (like the use of SO much red and green……… the symbolism………) JUST EVERYTHING IS SO F UCKING ABANDONED AND S HIT- THE LITERAL MIRRORING AND DIMENSION S HIT WHAT THE F UCK!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT CREEPY ASS ROOM WHERE THEY KIDNAPPED GAHYEON IN AND SIYEON WAS ACTING ALL TWITCHY OR WHATEVER WHAT WAS THAT-

TIME TO SHOW WHICH SCENES I LIKED

youtube

THE WHOLE GODDAMN THI-

(jk ☺️)

OFF THE BAT GAHYEON MAIN CHARACTER I KNOW THATS RIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

…………………… i just wanted to put this here-

i just wanted to put this here too-

HOW DID YOU EVEN GET HERE

id like to think that the real handong is one getting dragged away and the one standing is the doppelganger (for Plot™ purposes)

W H A T T H E F U C K

I DUNNO WHAT TO SAY OTHER THAN IM SCARED-

G OD WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE THIS PART WAS SO WEIRD WHAT DOES THIS MEAN WHAT DOES IT MEAN

HELLO??????????????????

yeah sure let me take this apple from this broken mirror where another me lies within the walls of this creepy hotel anD EAT IT

W E L P-

………………………………… F-

T H E M

I DUNNO HOW IM BREATHING RN-

JIU

whaT IN THE F UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS SCENE IN THIS SCREENSHOT IS ALREADY A LOT the way she looks seemingly unassuming and harmless in that reception desk that brown and white outfit (is her hair in like………… pigtails???) and then the smile to the instant glare you jusT KNOW youre gonna d*e in that place- MAAAAN BANGS OR NO BANGS SHES STUNNING EITHER WAY AND THATS SO RUDE………… the white dress and those red ACTUAL TALONS will be the d*ath of me

SUA

if i counted correctly she had three (3) different outfits??? outside of the dance ones??? white and red then black and purple then that green and black one??? i think of all of those i really like the red and the green one theres SOMETHING ABOUT THEM i think the green one with the big puffy sleeves more NOT BC ITS MY FAVORITE COLOR I SWEAR the green looks silky and then she also has the thing on the side of her face the pearls in her hair- AND THEN THAT RED ONE with the white sleeves and the frilly collar dude whAT THE F UCK LIKE I KNOW WE SAW IT A LOT BUT I WANNA SEE MORE THO……………

SIYEON

OKAYOKAYOKAY LOOK- THIS OUTFIT IN THIS SCREENSHOT I FEEL LIKE I SHOULDNT LIKE IT YET I DO????????????? two completely different looking patterns that animal print and the strips and then that big ass belt (???) around her waist like this shouldnt be like a GOOD look i dont think……… truly only She™ could make this look work 😔😔😔 i got A LOT A LOT to say about the red and orange plaid crop top and skirt with the different colored clips in her head but the only thought going through my Dumb of Ass Stupid Brain™ iS HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

HANDONG

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY NATURAL BLONDE BELOVED this white dress and the BLACK BOOTS AND THE CHOKER SHE BETTER S TOP- AND DO NOT I REPEAT D O N O T!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SPEAK TO ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ON THAT SHORT WHITE DRESS WITH THE WHITE BOOTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHOEVER STYLED HER YOU DONT CARE ABOUT ME AND THE OTHER HANDONGISTS YET I ALSO LOVE YOU SO MUCH the one with the pink dress dont talk to me dont approach me donT EVEN F UCKING LOOK AT ME IM GOING THROUGH A LOT RN

YOOHYEON

im really Dumb of Ass™ i thought that one pink and (maybe???) super light blue dress had a clock on it- BUT MOVING ON FROM THAT the space buns and whatever those accessories those are and the pink makeup this is sO- then the white dance outfit with those (mesh??? lace??? i just know that its see through-) sleeves and those big ass earrings THAT LOOK AT 2:24 the boots (yeah i gotta mention that first since i just ALWAYS have to mention them) the white blazer all those pearl long ass necklaces and whatever that is on the side of her face why do her visuals HURT SO BAD-

DAMI

bicth…………………………………… B I C T H- WHAT HAS THIS WOMAN BEEN DOING??????!!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!??!??!?!?! THIS OUTFIT IS SUCH AN ATTACK I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT IS ON HER FACE THIS WHOLE LOOK IS SOMETHING ELSE™ her tattoo 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 that bottom part of her hair is kinda clapped tho honestly- the pig tails?????? braids?????? in the dancing part on the black and white tiles IM DOWN YALL IM DOWN SO BAD AND ITS F UCKING RUDE™ THAT WE DONT SEE S HIT OF THAT DRESS AT THE END-

GAHYEON

IM GONNA SAY IT AGAIN LEE👏GAHYEON👏MAIN👏CHARACTER👏I👏KNOW👏THATS👏RIGHT👏👏👏👏👏👏👏!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS RED HAIR IS A BLESSING (especially in that high ponytail i-) SHE IS ATTACKING ME BUT YKNOW WHAT THATS OKAY- im SURE theres a plot significance to her two different dresses the mostly black and the mostly white but my brain can only register WOMAN PRETTY that white one in particular…………… the choker with her hair up and those boots…………… i saw it clear as day and im d wording over it-

BONUS TIME: B-SIDE TRACKS (thoughts and parts i liked)

Intro

i usually expect the intro to be like SUPER HYPE AND INTENSE yknow which it kinda is! however it is consistent that it fits very well and captures the overall vibe of the entire album the calm beginning with the bell like were walking into an establishment and at the halfway point it picks up its intriguing and the ‘i like you’ adds a subtle eeriness that adds just enough to make one wanna continue listening its v good 👌

Airplane

LISTEN……………… LISTEN- this is the VERY LAST genre i expected out of this group YET im not even a little bit shocked that they did this like this cutesy izone-esque summer bop of a song is a DREAMCATCHER™ song……………… YALL- THE AMOUNT OF SEROTONIN THAT ‘AIRPLANE LALALALALALA~~~~~~~’ BRINGS IS SOMETHING SO PERSONAL THIS SECOND GENERATION SUMMERY ASS INSTRUMENTAL WHAT IN THE F UCK- I FEEL LIKE IM RUNNING ON THE BEACH I FEEL THE COLD WIND OF THE WATER BUT THE HEAT OF THE SUN AGAINST MY SKIN AND IM PLAYING WITH A DAMN BEACH BALL WITH A COCONUT DRINK (I F UCKING H*TE LEAVING MY HOUSE) JIU AND DAMI SOUND SO F UCKING PHENOMENAL

Whistle

im pretty firm on believing these b sides represent different times of a summer day and this is the late evening or twilight like not nighttime but CLOSE- i thought i wasnt gonna like the whistling part but that only makes it catchieR THIS SONG IS MAKING ME YEARN AND TRYING TO RECALL LOVELY MEMORIES I DONT EVEN HAVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! then again……………… theres always usually a song on their albums that make me unlock and feel hidden emotions………… THIS SONG GOT ME MISSING A PERSON THAT ISNT REAL this is such a mellow yet so powerful in the way they sing and express each syllable- they all did so good on this song but i gotta mention dami again for her part like oH mY gOoOoOooOoOOOooOD

Alldaylong

JIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the way this song was inspired by a hug jiu got from yoohyeon…………… THIS IS NOT A JOKE she said ‘i wanna try city pop’ anD SHE DONE DID IT- i have NO IDEA how this song managed to hold so much joy and light happiness in every word and instrument used in this but im :ccccccc i literally wanna hug someone after listening to this 😔😔😔 this also makes me yearn for something but at least this one isnt unrealistic or unobtainable i dont think! there are some songs out there that make me cry from its lyrics and its sound but THIS ONE the lyrics and just how happy this song is bro reading the lyrics im about to cry for like the fifth time- they who im love so much… :ccccccc doesnt it make you just wanna hug someone and tell them you love them????????? that you appreciate them??????????

해바라기의 마음 (A Heart of Sunflower)

i knew FOR A FACT FOR👏A👏FACT👏 that they were gonna have a ballad for this album bc road to utopia didnt have one i will admit i was one of the 🤡 that thought jiu would be credited on this song 😬😬😬 ANYWAY- AGAIN WITH THE DAMN YEARNING FOR SOMETHING BUT THIS TIME IM F UCKING SAD AS S HIT why must this song be so powerful to make me emotional before i even got to read the lyrics to fully grasp it……………………… now im truly yearning in the Sad™ way and waiting for some imaginary person who i dont even know will even come back…………………… those damn adlibs are pretty as hell it was sua (and i have to mention dami again okay shes really killing it on this she woNT LET ME LIVE-) who got me feeling this the most like yeah…………………… i am a fool…………… im a fool for loving and missing someone who just disappeared from my lifE G O D D A M N IT-

LIKE this is COMPLETELY surprising album BUT IN THE BEST WAY POSSIBLE as its described it really is a ‘special’ album as while the title track still has their music style and sound theres still an element of summer (a very Terrifying™ summer BUT a ✨Summer✨ album nonetheless) like the b sides are SO different and COMPLETELY caught me off guard when i listened to the highlight medley YET this group of seven amazing and talented women pulled it off!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! its extremely obvious at this point that their steady and organic growth has grown VERY HIGH this time and (although im still very confused by how everything was released and announced BUT i digress) this different kind of method in performing the song the day before seemed to work?????????? I DUNNO WHAT TO SAY ANYMORE this section could literally be summed to just I LOVE DREAMCATCHER SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

IN CONCLUSION: LISTEN TO THIS ALBUM BECAUSE ITS BOMB AS F UCK

AND AS ALWAYS

#these are becoming harder to do i dunno why i cant focus 😔#i wanted to switch handongs and yoohyeons pictures as a joke but i didnt want people to think i was stupid and fake 🤡#dreamcatcher #han.txt #han's afterthoughts

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angelicmichael · 3 years

Text

Hoax - Prologue

Michael Langdon x Mallory

Summary: After failing to kill murder house Michael; Mallory must travel back in time to Sojourn era to try again. However; she finds to her horrific discovery that jumping through time repeatedly does not come without its consequences.

Words: 3.0k+

Warnings: Death, They both almost die (or do die) so.. a lot of describing wounds and nearly dying and that jazz ✌🏻, major wounds, lowkey a dark fic, Mallory discusses wanting to kill Michael and finds celebrates it??, angst, Mallory goes and sees his dead body, blood

A/N: this takes place right after Mallory drives away from Michael in the finale btw!! I literally didnt intend on making it this dark but it just happened LOL. I feel like most of the dark stuff is vague so.. it should still be chill. This is the first time ive written millory/character x character so please go easy on me!! I also tried to follow canon and stay accurate to details the best I could but knowing me I probably fucked up somehow LMAO but enjoy 💖💖 major plot twist is coming in the next chapter btw! Also Mallorys thots are italicized.

As soon as Mallory drove away; she knew nearly immeadietly that it was too good to be true. Things could never be this fucking easy.

She felt a pit in her stomach almost instantaneously once she was in the year 2015; Even though she couldnt decipher if the anxiety was a warning or something else.. She continued on with the dark destiny she was put on this earth to fulfull.. to kill the antichrist.

Even though she was fully aware of this; and had come to terms with what she had to do - she learned the hard way that it didnt seem to make things easier at all; like how she dreamed it would. Although, even now as she continued to speed away from the infamous 'murder house', the drop in her stomach seemed to only grow; along with her self doubt.

Was he really dead??

Did I really do it??

She knew that the answer to both of those questions should be yes; but the longer she remained driving in her car, getting farther and farther away from where the incident had occured.. she knew something was wrong.

Mallory suddenly jolted the steering wheel into a sharp left; continuing to turn it until she was doing U-Turn.. She couldnt help but to feel completly bewildered at her own actions - never doing something so impulsive, like going back to a crime scene let alone commit murder, in her life.

Although Mallory felt a bit disgusted with her recent previous actions; she couldnt help but imagine how disgusted she would feel with herself if she didnt pull this off. She mulled over the previous thoughts she had had about this moment and how dreamed it would feel; she thought she would feel joy, elated, and at peace but.. instead she still felt as if she was being suffocated by his presence.

He wasnt gone. Not yet.

She pressed her foot down on the gas, she knew she hadn't gone too far away from Michael's residence yet it seemed as if it was a millenia away. The task she was supposed to complete was starting to seem more and more increasingly impossible the less distance was put between them.

If running him over with a car three times wasnt enough to kill him, whose to say anything else would? What if Constance had brought him inside?? What if she was still out there with him?? Mourning?

Mallory wasnt a monster; she wasnt going to tear away a dying boy from his grandmother in his (hopefully) final moments, even if he was the antichrist.

She felt as if she was a total loss for what to do; which made her grow sick to her stomach because she knew that was a cruel form of denial. She was destined for this moment; every moment thus far had led up to this.. so why did she feel like such a failure? Her thoughts grew more foggy and distant with panic; her throat became entirely dry as she slowed the car down. The murder house now in view; the first thing she noticed.

The red bricks and stained glass windows shined brightly in the sun. The house, which Mallory was sure typically looked beautiful, radiated a terrifying aura.. even more so this time versus when she was here only a mere minutes ago. The expanse and exterior of the house was intimidating; it held a certain danger to it that she couldnt pinpoint her finger on where the source came from.. it certainly was not Michael. Mallory knew that even if he wasnt dead; his powers would fade out for atleast a few minutes from being so wounded.

Mallory stopped the car once she saw Michael's dead body; which still resided in the middle of the road. Her feelings of panic and nausea only amplified once she saw his body - her gaze lingering upon it. She approached him with no hesitation; she could nearly feel that he was gone.. his spirit momentarily missing.. somewhere else.

She studied him carefully and nearly pitifully as she crouched down to kneel next to his body. His body was littered and splattered with bright red wounds. His pants looked as if they were dip dyed in red paint; His once pale skin along with the majority of his clothes was covered in a bright red splatter. Long, dark red lacerations decorated his face. His mouth was still agape; his once white teeth were coated in the same shade of red his clothes were.

Even though he looked absolutely horrible; Mallory still felt absolutely no remorse for the antichrist. Knowing what he would become, and his sick ways of manipulation deserved no mercy. However, knowing only seconds ago he was nothing but a mere bloody, suffering child.. she couldnt help but to not fight the tears she felt budding at her eyes; letting one slide down her cheek before quickly wiping it away - she knew it was naive to assume she wasnt being watched.

Mallory wasnt stupid - she knew her powers and what she was capable of, like the back of her hand by now. The past few months practically consisted of her testing and expanding on her limits... She knew that healing Michael in this exact moment wasnt out of the question. In fact, it almost seemed to be more difficult to restrain herself from healing him.. but she knew better.

He deserves to fucking suffer. He deserved to rot in his personal hell; wherever that may be.

She couldnt help but to nearly laugh at the thought that he finally got what was fucking coming to him.

Mallory could feel herself shaking with how close she was to Michael now. She couldnt stand how he made her feel when they were this close - almost touching.

She now was kneeling next to his body on the concrete, her knees aching from the rough surface but she couldnt go just yet. Not when she still had no fucking clue where to go from here.

The world seemed as if it came to stand still; nothing seemed like it existed outside of the small bubble that Mallory felt her and Michael were suddenly trapped in.. The birds stopped singing, no cars happened to drive by.. everything just stopped.

All the spirits and souls that Mallory could feel that were trapped within the grounds of the house, didnt bother to make a appearance either. But she knew they were still there... she could still feel their eyes on her. Watching; waiting.

The sun's warmth, which normally Mallory chose to bask in, was starting to make her itch. She could feel her skin start to moisten with sweat.. Instinctively she knew that her sudden newfound state of being uncomfortable was her cue to leave... To go where though? She wasnt sure.

Why am I still here? If everything had happened correctly; if I really killed him.. then why havent I woken up yet??

Mallory continued to stare at him grimly; not quite brave enough to speak but still managing to maintain the courage to sit by him and look at the damage she caused. The most jarring feature of Michael's current appearance would be his eyes. Mallory couldnt help but to stare at them; and it certainly wasnt because they were beautiful.

His once vibrant, sky blue, irises were now starting to look oddly dull. A faint, milky white color looked as if it were painted over them instead.

His skin was now a bruised white; Mallory shakily extended out her hand - pressing the back of her knuckles softly to his forearm. She wanted to see how cold his body was; and when she made contact - she pulled her hand back so fast as if it had been burned. She hissed, the coolness of his skin stunned her. She stared at his body intensely - shocked that she even dared to touch him, let alone even stick around for this long.

The sounds Michael started to make is what finally drove Mallory to wake up out her near trance she found herself amidst in and to realize the reality of the situation. After minutes of silence and stillness, and sure death, Michael's chest finally started to move. The amount at which his chest moved was nearly minuscule at first; but he was recovering rather quickly.. too fucking quickly for Mallorys liking.

It was almost sickly ironic how Mallorys chest started to move faster and faster as soon as Michael's did; she couldn't help but to feel entirely panicked. The rest of her emotions; her thoughts; her feelings; everything that used to make up her was now fleeting.. rapidly leaving until as she could focus on was the oxygen briskly escaping her.

She watched the color from his skin start to return; the off putting stark whiteness leaving and a very subtle pink gracing his skin tone. More noticeably; she observed how the color in his lips and eyes returned back.. almost appearing normal.

She unconsciously found herself rising; panic still occupying all of her senses. She quickly unfolded her legs and steadied herself as she stood up.. One thought and one thought only rang through her mind like a sick mantra..

I need to get the fuck out of here.

Mallory tried to gasp as she suddenly felt her throat grow incredibly dry; she let out a desperate dry cough. Her eyes started to tear up unwillingly as she felt a enormous amount of self doubt suddenly surge into the core of her being - the feeling slipping momentarily into her soul.

The world around her began to spin and melt away simultaneously; until she felt her physical body melt away from Michael and the Murder House incredibly rapidly before she could even fully process what was happening.

She felt the harsh coldness of the bath tub water for a split second before she emerged; the black water engulfing her as she stayed partially concealed within the water. Immeadietly she found herself gasping and gagging on her tongue from not being able to breath possibly fast enough... The next thing she felt was otherworldly pain. She felt so much fucking pain.

Mallory gripped the edge of the bathtub until her fingertips turned white and her nails threatened to split. She stayed like that for a moment; spitting and gasping, trying to find a way to consume as much oxygen as possible while managing the nearly unimaginable pain. Her entire body throbbed but her eyes felt a different pain; a sickly stinging.

Keeping her posture and preventing herself from slipping entirely back into the black water was a fucking mission in itself, she quickly learned. She didnt even bother to pretend to be quiet.. Her breaths and groans were far too loud to even begin to ignore.

Is Michael still alive? Where is Myrtle?

Mallorys lungs seemed to return to normal capacity after a while, her gasping decreased until she was utterly and completely quiet. She arose from the water as quietly as she possibly could, biting her lip to prevent making any additional noise from the sudden cold air she felt against her body.. stinging and torturous..

Her eyes still ached, bringing her hands instinctively to her eyes to stop the pain - she realized ones of her hands was still balled into a fist.. holding onto something.

Was that.. is that MICHAELS hair??

Mallory stared at the once curly, perfectly golden strands of hair that lie in her balled up fist in complete horror - it was now a dark red from the blood that had washed off her skin and into the water.

There was no way this was HIS hair. It had to be someone elses; anyone elses! She refused to believe that she was holding onto anything that belonged or had to do with Michael... complete disgust and delirium rendered her from thinking that.

Her first instinct was to drop the hair; but something told her to keep holding onto the lock, it would only serve her well in the future.

Her vision was inky with blood; dark red clouding her vision and making her feel even more impaired and utterly hopeless then she already felt.. even with the large wound still gaping and bleeding from her stomach. Her stomach wound made her entire body ache, trying to stay conscious was a fight within itself.

It happened again. I failed.

She wasnt sure if she was just being cynical or if her thoughts were even to be trusted anymore when she was in this state.. she only knew she wanted this horrible nightmare to be fucking over with already. She wanted to wake up in Robichauxs and see her sisters; Misty, Madison, Queenie, Zoe and more than anyone.. Cordelia... Oh fuck.

Cordelia... She was still dead.. because of me.

Mallory blinked slowly a few times; taking her free hand and wiping as much blood away from her face and eyes as she could - just enough so she could fully take in her surroundings.

If she could feel her stomach; she was sure she would feel it drop because as much as she looked, she saw no one. Absolutely no one. Tears slipped down her cheeks but they werent bloody anymore. She knew she was completely fucked; he had her cornered.

Well not literally anyways. He still managed to lurk somewhere within the vast empty walls of Outpost Three; most likely looking for her.. but he had to know she was fatally wounded.. right?

That's when out of the thick silenceness, she heard the first sign of life. Loud; but distant heavy footsteps.

Michael.

She knew she was fucked right away. She could almost feel his spirit itself within Hawthorne; the feeling slowly flowing to her until it forced her to be frozen. Petrified, still sopping wet and with some left over blood dripping off her chin - she knew what she had to do.. and she only had seconds to do it. Mallory knew he was approaching closer and closer the longer she stood docile in the bathtub.. like a idiot.

She took deep, heavy breaths. Fully; for the first time, cherishing the feeling of oxygen in her lungs - knowing that she very well might not make it out alive. Preforming time travel once alone was a enormous feat; but she had already done it twice.. but three times?

The thought simultaneously scared and excited her; she continued take deep breaths before relaxing. Closing her eyes and focusing; searching for a moment in Michael's history to go back too.

There had to be another time Michael was weak besides when he was with Constance at the murder house.. Another time that he felt abandoned.. lost.. confused..

She swallowed as she felt and focused on the soft strands of hair that she held onto; trying to search desperately for the answer that she needed as she took the next step and plunged herself under the water, first barely managing to weakly whisper, "tempus infinituum".

The water tore at her skin as she felt herself letting go from the past reality... slowly yet rapidly her senses seemed to all melt away at once before she was floating- until nothing.

Suddenly Mallory opened her eyes, blinking as she kept calm as she adjusted to her new surroundings.. an open, nearly empty forest was what welcomed her as she slowly spun around.

The smell of pine leaves and the heavy scent of the forest consumed her senses. She first felt calm and at peace; the forest was beautiful. She almost felt tempted to forget about what she came here to do and to lose herself within the sea of greenery but.. something was terribly wrong.

More so; someone was here.

Mallory first stood still; puzzled as to why she was now standing in a vacant forest with pine needles at her feet.

She didnt dare say a word out loud, just in case, but she knew she was waiting for something before she dared to take a step.. she was waiting for a sign. She didnt bat a eye when she felt a soft, warm breeze tousle her hair forward. She felt it continue to crash against her body - almost like soft waves crashing upon rocks. She felt it on her warm skin; her skin getting goosebumps as she knew what this meant. She was getting her sign.

This is it. Is he here?

Mallory giggled at the mere thought; the anticipation and glee of imagining how this nightmare perhaps could be over in the near future was making her experience true euphoria.

She began to walk through the forest; passing several trees as she searched for what she was yearning for. The breeze was far gone by now but she knew to keep going; to keep looking. She looked at the forest landscape that lie ahead of her; a sea of moss and blended greens and blues. The forest didnt have the same magic it typically held though; something was missing.

It was because she was getting closer to him.

Mallory had to suppress a scream as she suddenly felt herself step on something that wasnt the forest floor. She felt a painful shiver run directly down her spine, almost as if someone was running a blade down her back. She was becoming consumed with panic once more; and with the sudden realization what was happening.. What this meant.

It was pure reflex which caused her to take a step back; even before she had the opportunity to look down and confirm her suspicions, she knew exactly what she had stepped on. A body.

She quickly looked down at what she had stepped on - not able to take the anonymity of the individual any longer.. and of course..

I fucking knew it.

She recognized who it was immeadietly, curly blonde hair that was mangled with dirt and a typical black outfit.. it was too easy to guess the identity of the body. He was face down, his body sprawled out unnaturally and in a uncomfortable manner..

It was once again; Michael Langdon.

Taglist: @mina672 @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakewaterxx @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @beyond-repentance @lizzy-claire-fandom

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poptod · 4 years

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hello! can i request something romantic with either ahk or snafu or really any rami character where y/n has round dark brown doe eyes? like so dark brown they look black if you’re not looking at them in sunlight? and he’s just flirting with them and he says something nice about their eyes? i have round dark brown eyes and i’m kinda insecure about them cuz they’re so common, and it’s been one shit-show if a week for me and i really just need to feel good about myself

notes: damn, i can totally do that for you. hope your weekend is much better than your week :) thank u for requesting and i hope you enjoy it !

WC: 2k

Life never worked naturally to your advantage. You were born average looking – nothing special on either side of the spectrum, with average hands and common dark brown eyes. You grew up poor and worked your ass off to get into a good college on a scholarship, eventually getting kicked out for something you didn't even do. You auditioned to be part of an orchestra, but there were too many violinists already, and you just 'didn't fit the profile'. You tried to be an artist, but no one liked your creations. You tried to pick up another instrument, but you couldn't afford a good one, and the last time you tried to buy a cheap guitar, the neck broke on the third use.

Because of these many happenstances (and the many more, less mentionable ones), you considered yourself unlucky. It was a fact of life for you as much as the sun's existence in other peoples lives, or that the superbowl was too long. Or guacamole wasn't good. Fortunately, the years of nothing ever coming naturally had made you into a fantastic worker, and by some rare stroke of luck, you found you were rather good at physical labor jobs. You weren't strong by any standards – in fact rather weak – but your attention to detail made you the janitor of a prestigious museum you visited twice as a child.

It wasn't a fantastic job, and the poor pay led to having five roommates, but you enjoyed yourself. You tried to do that in every aspect of life; finding the joy in menial tasks, or solace in duty. After all, you got to see wonderful recreations of history in the still wax figures, and learn heaps of knowledge from the many information panels you came across when making your way through the museum. The only truly unfortunate part of your job was the time – right after closing, but you had to finish quickly, as you weren't allowed inside at night. A stupid rule, but the night guard and Dr. McPhee were insistent on it.

They thought you didn't know about the exhibits.

They were, obviously, wrong. You knew, and you adored the magic behind it all. While you hadn't actually ever seen any of the exhibits come to life, you watched the news on an evening where the exhibits broke out, and with your knowledge of the Tablet curse, you pieced the mystery together.

You hadn't meant to take this long. McPhee was already pissed at you for 'accidentally' skipping over the men's restroom yesterday, and taking too long at your job would land you on thin ice, something you couldn't afford. With a hurried pace you finished sweeping the floors in the last room, storing the broom away and moving on to mopping. Checking your watch once more, you noted the time, mentally checking if you would be able to finish before closing hours.

Mopping the Egyptian room usually takes five to ten minutes, and closing is in two, you thought, despair settling in your stomach. What would you do if you 'found out' about the tablet? What would McPhee do if he found out you knew? He wouldn't fire you, would he?

You truly didn't know. He was a bit of a loose cannon when it came to those things.

As fast as you tried to move, the hours of night came faster than you could mop, and the tablet began to glow behind you. Bewildered you turned, watching with your mouth slightly parted as the glow grew to the radiance of the sun. You knew the tablet brought the magic, but you didn't know about the glow – now that you were witnessing it yourself, the only thing you could feel in your pounding heart was fear. A fear that only grew worse when the Pharaoh's sarcophagus began to rattle.

You'd thought about the wax figures coming to life. You thought about the dinosaur. You, however, did not think about the 4,000 year old mummy.

Needless to say, you bolted. Leaving behind your supplies, you ran as fast as you could, wind pounding past your ears as the sound of a lion's roar came from the neighboring hall. You grit your teeth and made for the main entrance, but by the time you got there many of the exhibits had adjoined in the main room. Pressing yourself against the locked door, you watched with wide eyes as the Teddy Roosevelt statue began to talk to Attila, and in that moment you realized that perhaps magic was not always good. Not when you were spiralling into a panic at least.

It took a couple hours of you staring into space before anyone actually noticed you. To your surprise, it wasn't the night guard, or even McPhee – it was a Pharaoh, skin and everything intact. His crown remained polished upon his head, a stark difference from the crowns on exhibit, whose colors and carvings had faded long ago.

"Hello," he said with a pleasant, polite smile as he knelt, matching the height of your seated position on the floor. "Are you a new exhibit?"

You looked down at your clothes. Janitor clothes.

"No," you said, and instantly his demeanor changed.

"Oh dear," he said, and though you agreed with that statement, you certainly did not agree with him grabbing your wrist and dragging you into the crowd.

"I don't really want to be doing this," you said in a shaky voice, but he did not answer.

As he dragged you through the crowd you kept your eyes closed, wary of overstimulation of both ears and eyes. He eventually stopped at the top of the stairs, where you opened your eyes to find the night guard, Larry.

"What are you still doing here?" Larry asked almost frantically, looking between the dancers below and you.

"In my defense I didn't want to be here, I knew about the magic and I don't – I didn't ever want to actually see it," you half-lied.

"How the hell did you know?!"

"You don't do a very good job of covering it up, Larry," you said flatly, your voice still cracking from nerves.

You didn't have very many friends. Your roommates didn't talk to you much, and the life you had outside of work consisted mostly of quiet, indoor hobbies you could do just about anywhere. So, once the whole of the situation was sorted out (with input from McPhee), you took your drawing pads and notebooks to the museum with you, working for the first few hours and drawing into the hours of night while watching history come to life.

Despite your original discomfort of being in the presence of a 100% authentic, come-to-life mummy, you became rather good friends with him. Not fantastic, and he didn't know very much about you, but he was kind and handsome. You hated to admit it, but he held your avid interest. Another one of those unlucky things in your life – of course you had to fall in love with an immortal, reanimated mummy who only came to life at night.

"Why don't you ever come dance with us?" Ahkmenrah (his name, apparently) said as he sat down beside you on the loft, the only barrier between you and a fifteen-foot fall being a stone rail.

"I'm afraid I'm not all that good of a dancer," you said, not bothering to look up from your sketchbook. You couldn't ever bear to look at him that long anyway.

"Neither am I," he laughed. "That's the point."

Instinctively you looked up at him, holding eye contact with his grey eyes for only a second before you looked away, a blush already making its way to your cheeks. He had the opposite of your life – lucky beyond belief. The favorite of his parents, completely immortal, completely beautiful, almost too wealthy, and many, many friends, including yourself.

What got you the most however was his eyes. Cold eyes were already praised in modern society – people loved grey, they loved blue and green. But in Ahkmenrah's society, the one that existed thousands of years ago, blue eyes hardly existed. The mutation for the new color was one in a billion back then, making him one of the (probably) three people on the planet with blue eyes. And now that lucky mutation stood before you in its purest, oldest form, and you couldn't bear to look at them for any longer than a solitary moment.

For some reason, it hurt you. Maybe because you were boring. Dull. Brown in a brown society. Sure, they looked beautiful in sunlight – you knew that. They turned into swirling gold and the taste of chocolate, but Ahk couldn't see them in the sunlight. That made you dull.

Now, Ahkmenrah was not a man to point things out about people. If they were being a dickhead, yes, but most of the time he noted things and dismissed them. But you'd been doing this for so long that he grew weary of the dance.

"Why don't you ever look at me?" He asked, a question that had your eyes widening and your back straightening, alarm bells ringing all over your brain.

"I look at you plenty," you said while avoiding his gaze like a 15th century doctor avoids respecting women.

"No, you don't," he said softly. "Not even now. I wish you would – you've got such beautiful eyes."

Your sketching stopped at his words. At your silence he placed his hand on your jaw, tilting so you looked at him. Instead of meeting his gaze you looked to the floor.

"They're very common," you got out weakly, still unable to make eye contact, but he kept you where you were, in the easy sight of him. "They only look good in the sun."

He shifted closer, keeping his hand on your jaw in hopes of you changing your mind and meeting his eye.

"Even in darkness they're beautiful, voids as empty and long as night," he hummed, drawing closer yet till you could feel the heat off his body on your still fingers. "I've noted them quite a lot. Eyes are a beautiful thing, aren't they?"

"Yours are," you mumbled, barely catching the meaning and insinuation of your words before they came out.

"As are yours. Remember when we snuck into McPhee's office? The lamplight bounced off of them and they practically glittered like the embers and smoke of a fire," he said with a small smile. "And the bright lights in the hallways –"

Florescent, you thought.

"– and the candle lights that Nick brought, those flicker with that same spark within you. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

You couldn't move, stuck in place and stuck in your own head.

"The golden fireplace, Christmas lights – and the light of the moon, a dim, faraway light that can only be admired from a distance... like you," he murmured.

Sometimes you forgot his people were poets and admirers of nature.

"You have blue eyes," you whispered through the knot in your throat. He listened carefully. "And... I can see reflections in them. They're soft, like velvet. Despite everything, they.. you seem... happy. You always seem happy, and your eyes give it away."

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" He asked quietly, and in that moment you realized his nose was almost touching yours.

"No," you answered honestly. Another unlucky aspect of you.

"Neither have I," he said before he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours in a tender embrace you weren't at all expecting.

From both the view of the first kiss and of a Pharaoh's kiss, you weren't prepared, but the plush of his pink lips against yours sent sparks of delight into your heart. He moved slow, taking his time to map out your aspects just as you began to trail your hands over his open palm, memorizing the creases. You were reluctant to part, but he ran his hand through your hair and your brain short-circuited into placitude.

"You have the softest lips," he murmured, hand coming to cup your cheek once more.

You never applied aquaphor or did anything to make your lips soft.

Maybe it was luck.

Didn't really matter to you, because he kissed you again, and your eyes fluttered shut as everything in the world but him faded away.

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character

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shemakesmusic-uk · 3 years

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Wallice has shared her subversive new single 'Hey Michael'. 'Hey Michael' amplifies her blood-thirsty nature, a revenge anthem that finds Wallice turning into a worse villain than her erstwhile love interest. A song about toxic tendencies and how they manifest in our lives, 'Hey Michael' twists and turns around American Psycho imagery. Wallice labels "a revenge anthem for anyone who has encountered a gaslighting, manipulative person. It’s what I wish I would have said to all the ‘Michael’s’ I have met in my life. It can be substituted by many names, we all know or have met a ‘Michael’ though. Somehow the world revolves around them and they just can’t catch a break, because they never do anything wrong and it’s usually your fault. You should have listened to your gut instinct and swiped left on this Michael. This isn’t a man-hating song, it’s just something many people can relate to. Sometimes it’s embarrassing to admit just how bad a friend, date, or romantic partner was and a lot of the time, I would just smile and laugh off stupid remarks but when I think back, I wish I had told them off. But at the same time, my persona in the song is not the best person either. I literally say: I think I want to start a fight, which one is your girlfriend? The whole song is funny because I am so focused on how shitty Michael is that I don’t even think about how shitty I might be as well." Directed by Phil Stillwell, the video takes place at a house party, with Wallice interacting with various 'Michaels' before her behaviour spirals into something much, much worse. [via Clash]

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In the same vein as Massive Attack’s suburban groove and social commentary in the mid 90’s, KITA have captured the rhythm and heartbeat of suburban Pōneke; a city abuzz with a vibrant music and dramatic performance scene in their brand new track and official video, ‘Private Lives’. Weaving together elements of vintage rock, pop and soul, and warm hints of synth, KITA have created a skin-prickling piece of magic with ‘Private Lives’, a deeply beautiful track penned in 2020’s lockdown, that delves into the unknown of what happens when the blinds are shut – the parts of life that are unseen by others. "Standing from my kitchen window during lockdown in Aotearoa, sinister thoughts entered my mind about what could be happening behind closed doors for people”, says front-woman Nikita 雅涵 Tu- Bryant. The video tells the story of a father and daughter’s relationship amongst snapshots of everyday life and its monotonous anonymity, while things aren’t always what they appear on the surface. Late at night the father can finally reveal his true self, adorning makeup and sequins, only to be spied by his daughter. The two then share a special moment of dressing up and dancing together, a true celebration of individuality, self-love and the beauty of self-expression.

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'Just Chemistry' is the third single from Dance Lessons, a London-based, female-fronted and produced trio, creating what they define as Serrated Pop. 'Just Chemistry' is a delicate hymn to the unspoken. Dance Lessons return with their signature sound – minimal production, sleek vocals and intricate arrangements. Ann says: “'Just Chemistry' is about the over-complication of our relationships. It’s about the things that are left unsaid in-between the awkward text messages and conversations, and how the absence of knowing can be misinterpreted as doubt. Last year was a difficult one. For a long time, I felt at the mercy of my emotions. I doubted where things were going. I lived in the future and found it hard to commit to the present. But these moments of not knowing can be equally thrilling and beautiful. And that’s what the song is about: finding beauty in the unspoken. In most cases, it’s chemistry that makes us fall in love. Things end, all is temporary. Let’s not go to war with one another over it.” Nat says on the video: “A friend told us about this weird and wonderful house in North London that feels a little like stepping into an acid trip. We obviously wanted to check it out. It’s completely surreal, all over the place (in a great way) and generally eclectic, which felt inherently us. We instantly wanted to do something there and asked the owner for permission to shoot a music video. We filmed during lockdown and were let loose embracing all the oddness of it. Ann also designed and created the outfit she wears in the video, something she does with most of her wardrobe. It was shot, directed and edited by our hugely talented friends Ben Hanson and Simon Frost from Borderland Studios.”

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Returning with her first offering of the year, North London’s rising star Laurel Smith is ready to reveal her anticipated new single, ‘Out the Cage’ accompanied by an action packed and thrilling cinematic style music video directed by Jeremie Brivet and Jai Garcha. Sticking to her winning recipe of moody, dark, electro-pop production paired with effortlessly edgy tales of narrative lyricism, ‘Out the Cage’ is the next huge single from the young, innovative artist that is sure to follow the same trajectory of success as its predecessor, ‘Game Over’ released late last year. A songwriter and recording artist, Laurel Smith has been writing songs since the age of sixteen. With each single she’s released, Laurel has continued to adapt her sound and aesthetic, consistently honing her craft and evolving her brand. She has carefully carved out her place in an ever crowded industry and proceeds to turn heads at every corner. “‘Out The Cage’ is a song about breaking out from your constraints, both physical and mental. Although it can be interpreted in any way, when I wrote it I created a story around a bored housewife, falling out of love with her husband, she fantasises about tying him up and leaving him to be a badass assassin in a video game type world, roaming the city at night and living a life of unpredictability and excitement”.

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Hailing from the Philippines, singer-songwriter Laica is coming off a breakout 2020. Now the 21-year-old is gearing up for the release of her debut album I’m so fine at being lonely. The first single off the project, 'love u lately' is here, accompanied by a music video directed by Cooper Leith. 'Love u lately' is a relatable and infectious track. The song revolves around dating, understanding mixed signals, and the confusion that surrounds that world. Lyrically, Laica walks us through her experiences here, voicing her thoughts and frustrations about someone who she just can't seem to read right. Production-wise, the track is carried by a pulsing synth and a groovy bass. Together, the track feels upbeat. The vibe created by the production stands in contrast with the more emotional lyrics, making the track complex and interesting. The music video takes the concept of 'love u lately' to the extreme, in a fun and playful way. Laica is seen capturing her dream boy and attempting to use witchcraft to finally win him over. The video has a very DIY feel, which could serve to add to the reliability of the track. It’s a great extension of the track and taps into everyone’s most fantasy-driven realities. [via Earmilk]

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At first, Emily C Browning wasn't sure what to think. Spurned, rejected, and cast aside, she was angry, furious, and - at times - utterly bereft. Usually she'd utilise songwriting as a vessel for her emotions, but when she was so conflicted, and feeling so negative, that it just didn't enter her mind. The Christchurch, New Zealand artist needed to take a step back, and when she located some perspective, she was ready to act. New single 'I Wasn't Into You Anyway' is a soaring slice of revenge, one that finds Emily C Browning taking full control of her music. Her first solo production credit, its reminiscent of those surging, empowering Maggie Rogers bops, while also containing similar DNA to Sharon Van Etten's work. Lyrically, it's absolutely her own creation, with Emily leaning on those often-hidden feelings. She comments... "Everyday for a month I wrote in my journal: I want to write a song about feeling rejected. But I couldn’t figure out how to keep it light and funny, it can be quite a painful topic and I didn’t want to sound too heavy. But I kept working on it everyday and came up with this song. I then spent another month recording it, trying to capture a sound that stayed upbeat and playful. I put so much time and energy into the song that I ended up completely forgetting about the person who rejected me in the first place (honest, I swear)." [via Clash]

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Alt-pop force Holly Humberstone returns with new single 'Haunted House'. The songwriter's potent debut EP Falling Asleep At The Wheel was a sensation, racking up more than 100 million global streams. A bona fide phenomenon, Holly returns with a single that displays a more nuanced, reflective side to her work. 'Haunted House' digs into childhood, and looks at the way memory can frame the way we construct our identities. She comments: "I wrote this song about the old and characterful house I grew up in. The house is such a huge part of who I am and our family. With my sisters and I moving out and living separate lives, coming home feels very comforting and one of the only things keeping us all connected." Playing with concrete imagery and no small degree of invention, 'Haunted House' connects art to life in an enchanting fashion. She adds: "The house is almost falling down around us now though, and we’ve realised that pretty soon we’ll be forced to leave. There’s a cellar full of meat hooks and a climate so damp mushrooms grow out of the walls. Loads of people have probably died here in the past but I’ve always felt really safe. It’s like a seventh family member. It’s part of me." [via Clash]

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In 2019, the Boston-born and Brooklyn-based indie rock album Crumb released their debut album Jinx. Crumb haven’t yet announced plans to follow that album up, but they’re definitely working towards something. Last month, the band came out with a one-off single called 'Trophy.' Now, they’ve followed that one with two new tracks, and they’re both winners. The new songs 'BNR' and 'Balloon' both fit nicely into Crumb’s comfort zone. The band’s sound is a rich, sophisticated take on psychedelia, with blissed-out lead vocals from Lila Ramani and with some great funky drum action. The band co-produced both songs with Foxygen’s Jonathan Rado, who’s done great recent work with people like Father John Misty and Weyes Blood and the Killers and who knows how to make oblique ’70s-style pop sound good. But Crumb themselves deserve a ton of credit for coming up with a sound this layered and weird. They’re the rare circa-2021 band who might remind you of Broadcast. In a press release, Ramani says, “‘BNR’ is an ode to my favorite colors. I had a weird obsession with those colors in winter 2018-2019 and felt like they would follow me around everywhere I went." 'BNR' also has a cool music video. Director Joe Mischo starts the clip off as a hallucinatory reverie, but he turns it sharply towards horror at the end. [via Stereogum]

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Last year, Limerick poet/musician Sinead O’Brien released her debut EP, Drowning In Blessings. It was a unique work, a handful of songs featuring O’Brien’s sing-speak over spindly, post-punk guitars. It garnered O’Brien a bit of buzz overseas, and it left you wondering where she might take her music from there. Now, O’Brien’s back with a new song called 'Kid Stuff.' “‘Kid Stuff’ shows up all different tones on different days,” O’Brien said in a statement. “There’s something alive in it which cannot be caught or told. It is direct but complex; it contains chapters. This feels like our purest and most succinct expression yet.” Like Drowning In Blessings, 'Kid Stuff' found O’Brien working with Speedy Wunderground mastermind Dan Carey. Musically, it hints at a level up moment for O’Brien. There was something alluring and jagged about Drowning In Blessings, but 'Kid Stuff' places her usual approach over a song that is surprisingly groovy — maybe even a little danceable. It comes with a video directed by Saskia Dixie. [via Stereogum]

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Das Beat are made up of German actress and vocalist Eddie Rabenberger and Agor of Blue Hawaii. The pair have just shared their first single 'Bubble' online now and are set to release their debut EP Identität on June 4 via Arbutus Records. Born in Berlin during 2020’s legendary lockdown, Das Beat seeks to blast both boredom and boundary. Dabbling in German New Wave, Italo Disco, Indie & Dance, their sound is unified by vocals from Eddie Rabenberger, sung in German and English. Amidst playful lyrics one finds a strong underlying pulse (das “beat”), pinning down the duo’s meandering atmospherics, dreamy synths, guitars and percussion. The duo is half-Canadian and half-German. Agor (of Blue Hawaii), moved to Berlin from Montreal in 2018. Eddie is a theatre actress originally hailing from a small town in Bavaria. Together they find a strange but alluring symbiosis - like Giorgio Moroder meets Nico, or Gina X Performance meets The Prodigy.

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St. Vincent has fully embraced the ’70s aesthetic for her retro-sounding new record, Daddy’s Home. Now, she’s diving headlong into the animation styles of the era with the video for 'The Melting of the Sun'. Presented as a “betamax deluxe release” rip from “Candy’s Music Video Archives,” the clip blends live action shots of St. Vincent herself with the wavy, intermittent animation frames any Schoolhouse Rock student is familiar with. The psychedelic lines fit a song called 'The Melting of the Sun' perfectly, as do the drawings of the legends mentioned in the song’s lyrics like Nina Simone, Joni Mitchell, and Tori Amos. St. Vincent co-directed the clip with Bill Benz, while Chris McD provided the animation. [via Consequence]

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Bay Area slowcore trio Sour Widows have released a new single, 'Bathroom Stall,' from their forthcoming EP Crossing Over, which they announced last month with its title track. The song’s build-up is subtle and poignant like Sufjan Stevens, but Maia Sinaiko’s evocative, sweeping vocals are one-of-a-kind, and the lyrics are graphic and tragic: “Do you remember it like I do?/ Your lips turned blue I had my fingers in your mouth/ And I couldn’t get them out.” Sinaiko said of the song: "This song is about a relationship I had with someone who struggled with addiction, who very tragically passed away three years ago while we were together. It’s about some moments we shared, and how it feels to walk around carrying that person and those experiences with me while the world stays normal. I wrote the song because I wanted to preserve and document what happened to me. to write out the scary stuff and just let it sit there forever. I think its funny that its called 'Bathroom Stall' and that it has that image in it: the song goes from heavy and dark to ordinary and totally pedestrian in a sentence, which feels absurd. And that’s kind of what it’s like to grieve. That’s kind of what’s hard to explain about grief, how absurd it is. Part of you goes to a different planet and part of you stays walking around like an alien on Earth, going to the bathroom and looking at the moon and shit." [via Stereogum]

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As JUNO-nominated singer Kandle Osborne prepares to launch her new project, Set The Fire this spring, she shares the album’s third single, 'Misty Morning.' From being penned on a napkin while abroad to a Vancouver studio, 'Misty Morning' is a sonic journey that echoes soulful vulnerability and an honest reflection of realizing true love. For the video, Kandle reconnects with 'Honey Trap' director, Brandon William Fletcher, to create classic 40s noir-inspired cine-magic, filmed along the Vancouver coastline and within the lush landscape of Stanley Park. Kandle says: “‘Misty Morning’ is my first real love song, captured on a napkin while in Ischia, Italy when I was truly happy. My songwriting usually comes from a place of turmoil and catharsis, but this was simply a snapshot of a perfect, vulnerable moment. In recording it, I wanted to hide behind lush orchestration, but my producer/ best friend Michael Rendall had other ideas. He wanted to strip it down to just piano & a single vocal to take me out of my comfort zone and re-capture the open-hearted feelings I had while writing it. The song and the recording both hold for me a time when I dropped my guard for pure authentic love in spite of all my flaws and failures. In that moment, I felt my true value as a whole person for the first time.”

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On 'Vertigo,' Alice Merton’s first single of 2021, the 27-year-old describes the long road from uncertainty back to self-confidence. It emphasizes the unrest that seizes her again and again, the thought: “Why can’t I just let it go?” These contradicting thoughts and emotions that are so familiar to all of us sum up to an overwhelmingly positive effect - 'Vertigo' leaves you empowered rather than anxious: A powerful indie pop arrangement with distorted guitars, plus Alice Merton’s crystal-clear voice. The result is reminiscent of the British Invasion, with no air of self-doubt. With its energetic live qualities, 'Vertigo' feeds an appetite for summer festivals and concerts that will definitely return at some point. Largely responsible for this is the Canadian producer Koz, a multiple Grammy nominee, who has worked with Dua Lipa ('Physical') among others. Here, too, he adds on to what has already made Alice Merton stand out from the crowd in the past - her classic pop appeal - with an uncompromising and indie attitude. This enables Alice to take another big step: She equally encourages a shaken generation and herself that there will be easy summers again. That you can dance again and lie in each other's arms. That it is absolutely fine to have many facets, to not always be clear, and that strength and weakness are not mutually exclusive.

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Canadian artist Olivia Lunny's new release 'Sad To See You Happy' is a shamelessly poppy track centering an acutely relatable break-up narrative. The Canadian artist follows up her breakthrough success with a bouncy cut to soundtrack 2021’s long-awaited spring. There's a relatable tale of break-up at the heart of the gloriously poppy new single, belied by percussive instrumentation that creates a warm, nostalgic feel. [via Line Of Best Fit]

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After sharing the single last month, Charlotte Adigéry is now revealing the brand new video for ‘Bear With Me (and I’ll stand bare before you)’. The first new music since her 2019 debut EP Zandoli, Charlotte says of the video, “The video is about being confined thus confronted to the way we live. The cruel irony of having the privilege of standing still, questioning and observing my life in all safety while others are fighting for theirs. On the other hand, the video is about trying to stay sane while feeling that the walls are closing in on you. Embracing boredom and finding joy in the little things in life.” Director Alice Kunisue adds, “When I listened to Charlotte’s song and what it meant for her and Bolis, I wanted the video to visually encapsulate that feeling of being stuck inside and confronted to our deeper selves while paradoxically sensing the chaos going on in the outside world without being able to do anything about it. Choosing to film an apartment room from one single angle was a way to reflect that narrowness of thought that we all experienced, but also a constraint that allowed us to explore and develop visual ideas within a narrow system, in a way having to think only inside the box, which artistically was a fun challenge.” [via DIY]

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Millie Turner has shared a video for ‘Concrete Tragedy’. It’s a cut from her upcoming mini-album Eye Of The Storm, set for release on May 16, which also features a rework of breakout song ‘(Breathe) Underwater’. “This video is a visual representation of dancing on your own,” she says of the clip. “Combining the many parts of who we are when we’re by ourselves, I wanted it to feel like you’re entering a world of imagination that comes alive when we express ourselves.” [via Dork]

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Doja Cat and SZA have come together for a new single called 'Kiss Me More.' When the song was announced Wednesday night, the internet flipped out, which is to be expected with these two — especially Doja Cat, who is regularly going viral these days for all kinds of reasons. When it comes to collaborations, she always finds the best people. That includes Saweetie, who appeared on Doja’s recent 'Best Friend' but then claimed that it was released against her wishes. Given SZA’s long history of public frustration over TDE Records holding back her new album, she is probably happy to have any new music out. Despite recent single 'Good Days' hitting the top 10, her restless fanbase is still awaiting a follow-up to 2017’s iconic Ctrl. 'Kiss Me More' is the first single from Doja’s new album Planet Her, scheduled for release this summer. It returns to the disco vibes of Doja’s #1 hit 'Say So,' this time with no apparent resemblance to any Skylar Spence song. [via Stereogum]

#videos of the week #wallice #kita #dance lessons #laurel smith #laica #emily c. browning #holly humberstone #crumb #st. vincent #sour widows #kandle #alice merton #olivia lunny #charlotte adigery #millie turner #doja cat #sza

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gguktarts · 4 years

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decathect | jjk (1)

1. to withdraw one’s feelings of attachment from (a person, idea, or object), as in anticipation of a future loss

summary: if one thing was clear to you when you first met Jeon Jungkook, it was that he would never love you. at least, not the way you wanted him to.

pairing: jjk x reader genre: unrequited love au? || angst || little fluff if u Squint || drabble series word count: 2.7k parts: 1 / ? | next » cw: uhh kinda unhealthy depictions of a crush, & jk is a fuckboy w lots of tatts and long hair so that deserves a warning on its Own i say

note: so,,, this was supposed to be a short fic bc i wanted my heart broken but it turned into a drabble series……………….we’ll see how that goes!!! rip

You’ve heard of him from your friends, and from their friends: about the infamous Jeon Jungkook and the reputation that precedes him. He’s, first and foremost, an art major — and an excelling one at that. In the short three years he’s been an undergrad, his work has been featured, so far, in a total of 4 major art exhibitions. His displayed work apparently sells rather quickly, too, which surely earns him more than enough money to successfully continue his various artistic endeavors and out-of-uni activities. You’ve heard he’s also into tattoos, boxing, and photography on the side, for example. Whether it was true or not was not something you focused on, but considering his friends were they ones telling the tales, you didn’t doubt it. Not that you thought of it often, or at all, really.

What you did question was why exactly he felt the need to stop by Taehyung’s very own, very private, and very expensive Goghrik’s Vancrylics paint collection to use instead of his own. You didn’t want to think him as cheap because, quite frankly, you knew nothing more than those whispered rumors and offhanded comments Jimin and Yoongi perpetrated on occasion. So, you settled for thinking nothing until you could get concrete answers.

For a long time Jungkook remained a simple ghost, until finally one day he just existed. Everywhere, and then, always. As if meeting him once meant he’d open the door to your home to welcome himself as an indefinite guest, you suddenly had no week free of his presence or his trace. Like a growing avalanche you learned about him with repeated increase, sometimes by choice, and sometimes by mere coincidence. Maybe it was pure coincidence, too, how you came to fall for him — for Jeon Jungkook, the artist, the fuckboy. With time though, you came to a different understanding.

Liking Jungkook was no coincidence. It was a curse – a long, and tediously everlasting hex you’d so far failed to get rid of.

And it all started, you begrudgingly admit sometimes, with some paint and very little luck.

Being in one of the most prestigious Universities in the country naturally means you consistently face the demon of a huge – nay, an enormous campus. A wide lake rests between dispersed buildings while Hi-Q food marts border each cluster of separate dorms, connected all entirely by desire paths and concrete roads. It's no surprise then that a map is the standard gift given to all entrance students, though by now you’ve memorized practically all zones you inhabit (i.e. the Natural Sciences’ Atrium, the Physics Department, and your own dorm). Most people still use theirs, along with the mandatory transportation fare card Admissions urges all newcomers to get. More than anything it’s a must-have for anyone who wants to actually make it on time to class — more so when they’re not blessed with taking courses on a near-by group of Departments.

And it just so happened you’re amongst those ill-fated few.

For four years now you’ve been a resident of Dorm C, exactly the furthest of the dorms from the NS Atrium. Instead you’re — uselessly — at a walking distance from the Plastic Arts department, a place you’ve ventured to for only a single semester back in your second year. Back then you had decided that taking Pottery was a great way to fill in some of your electives, an idea which mostly Taehyung, an art major himself, cemented in your head. You remember nothing of your treks to the department, nor of the lessons you received, but your memory often recalls it happened whenever you visit him. Your final project, a 2-piece set of misshapen cups of tea, still rests atop one of his many bookshelves to this day. Taehyung calls them “endearing”, something about them “truly reflecting a purpose beyond what their ‘perfect brethren’ are subjected to”. Which, really, is code for “they could be used as mugs, but I like them better as vases for Namjoon’s succulents,” and you’re okay with that.

Namjoon, an English Lit major, is Tae’s roommate and the other occupant of their two-bedroom flat. As luck would have it they stay on the floor above your own, right atop your much smaller and much lonelier dorm room. It’s actually one of the shared excuses you all use for your constant visits.

Half of the time you spend on their flat includes being tucked away on their couch, reading astronomy journals or watching documentaries Joon frequently sits through alongside you, or sleeping under Tae’s covers simply because he enjoys the company and can’t seem to sleep otherwise. The rest of the time the boys, sometimes with you in tow on an off day, migrate to Jimin and Yoongi’s shared flat in Dorm D. They share their space with Jungkook, if Yoongi’s complaints about late-night water-fests were anything to go by, though you’ve never seen him there.

No, ironically, the first time you crossed paths with him was in the lobby of Dorm C — your dorm. You remember he was shifting and wandering around like a lost puppy, his eyes restlessly searching for something or someone. It was him, you knew, because he’s often featured in your shared friend’s Instagram posts, and because he’s very hard to miss.

He was — is big, towering over you easily, and was then dressed all in black. A mix of comfy and effortlessly put together in perfect execution, the rolled-up sleeves of his sweater did nothing to hide the ink covering his veiny forearms. You were instantly thankful — you’ve always been drawn to tattoos. They’re admirable on others and on yourself, and you instantly had to push down the desire to keep marking your body for reasons only pertinent to the feeling of the needle on your skin or the aesthetics of the design. Your poor ass couldn’t afford another so soon, anyway.

The other thing that gave him away was his signature dark hair, long and parted in the middle to fall over his round, soft eyes. It covered his multiple piercings but did nothing to take away from the sweet persona that settled over him. Despite the dark and the goth, he seemed… cute. Very cute, and very confused. The way his eyebrows furrowed at his phone screen just before he searched through the scattered students was a dead giveaway. He was likely lost, but that wasn’t very surprising. For all the time Tae and Joon spend on Dorm D, the same couldn’t be said otherwise. Visits to Dorm C were seldom for the rest.

And a lost Jungkook… wasn’t your problem. A simple look at his boyish features was enough to ignite some sort of weird somersaults in your chest, and you wanted nothing more than to ignore it and run far away. So, you tried.

Blinking away the staring he had thankfully not noticed, you made for your own room as embarrassment coursed through your jittery limbs.

You didn’t make it very far before your plan backfired. You had to go near him to reach the elevator, and it apparently didn’t matter that you were practically hiding inside your bag, your hand rummaging through it for your room cardkey.

“Hey—uh, Y/N right?” you heard, and your body froze.

A look up, and there he was. Jeon Jungkook, calling your name. It was weird hearing your mesh of letters on his tongue, foreign to his palette yet pronounced to perfection. Equally confused as he looked before, and even further more embarrassed (you couldn’t help but think, amongst all the chaos in your mind, that his voice was ridiculously soothing and fitting for his physicality), your throat only let out a very intellectual “huh?”

“Um,” Jungkook’s eyes went wide, his head cocked to the side at your reaction. His feet shifted under him, and you tried ignoring the way his cheeks grew a lovely shade of pink when he spoke again.

“I’m Jungkook, and hyung—Taehyung mentioned you before. He isn’t answering and I’m a bit lost, so I was wondering if you could give me directions? Unless you’re not… Y/N?”

You’re often a recurrent character in Tae’s stories, so it shouldn’t have surprised you he’s spoken of you before. But it did.

“I am Y/N,” you relented, maybe a bit more bitterly than you intended. You couldn’t help but pout at the sudden reminder of Tae’s love for recording you during your most… inopportune moments. “Where is it you want to go?”

The boy in question rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, a bunny-like smile making a sudden appearance. His teeth seemed to jut out a bit, and his upper lip disappeared almost entirely, but you were sure of one thing instantly: his smile was the prettiest one you’d ever seen.

You felt your chest constrict at the sight without any sense of permission, your ears going up in flames. Clearly, you were bonkers. You continued your walk towards the elevator, praying he’d keep up somewhere a bit farther from you. But he followed without question, easily settling besides you and offering glances from the corner of his eye. You pressed the up button and pretended not to notice, playing around with your cardkey while you both waited.

“To hyung’s dorm — I haven’t ever been there, as strange as it sounds, and I need to borrow some paint.”

“Borrow some paint?” you hummed, the notion seeming somewhat silly to you. “After you’ve used it you can’t return it, so would it really be borrowing?”

You moved to look at him questioningly, curiosity getting the best of you, and the feeling you were hit with was far too paralyzing for you to carry. It was a sudden storm of affection, a wave of currents that spread and tightened, tickling and burning your stomach each second you saw his crinkled eyes, his teeth fully bared into a humorous grin. It made your feet stick to the ground even after the doors of the elevator greeted you open.

“You’re a weird one aren’t you?” he muttered airily, more to himself than anything, before shrugging and prompting you to follow him inside the confined space. “Technically, you’re right, but saying I’m borrowing stuff sounds nicer, doesn’t it? It’s all about semantics. Don’t worry though, hyung lets me take some of his whenever I run out.”

“Okay.”

Neither of you said much after that, but you did take him all the way to Tae’s and Joon’s front door. He thanked you softly before you left, with a smile sincere and gentle in ways you hadn’t expected. You remember nodding along and, possibly, wishing him good luck on his art project, but you weren’t sure by the time you reached your room.

You remember skipping your assignments that night, choosing instead a hot shower and the comforts of your recently cleaned bed. It was the first attempt at forgetting the whole event, a new mission for your mind to complete before a crush settled its anchor.

You were used to six handsome guys. You drew the line at seven.

Meeting Jungkook for the first time was disastrous for the days that followed. Maybe you were being a bit dramatic, but it was rightfully warranted. Your brain had vaguely memorized what he looked like outside of pictures, and now you saw him everywhere. It was the frequency bias all over again, and it had no escape, just like that one time you wanted to dye your hair and suddenly half the population seemed to be dying it that very color. Similarly, interacting with Jungkook meant noticing him in your peripheral when he wasn’t front and center, knowing it was him in the distance. It only worsened when your paths began to regularly cross.

It happened and continuous to happen mostly in the presence of Tae or Joon, or any of Jungkook’s roommates.

Whenever you’d spend some time on the couch with Joon, he was there. Whenever you woke up midday and decide it was high time to cook brunch for three (four then), he was already there. When Yoongi invited you over to hear some of the pieces he’s been working on, Jungkook was miraculously in the apartment. Oh, you wanted to steal some of Tae’s shirts? Jungkook catches you red handed, some stolen paints of his own right in his treacherous hold.

It’s absolutely maddening.

You wouldn’t mind it so much if it weren’t for the fact that each new stare, each new smile, leaves your stomach in complete shambles.

Who could take you back to the time when you hadn’t heard his loud laugh? To when he hadn’t seen you loafing around in your onesie after a killer test and stayed to comfort you? He even called you cute, shared some of his milk and made sure to leave only after he’d seen you smile. Sometimes he’d even notice you watch your documentaries only to pop a random question about space, or even about the science behind Star Trek or Star Wars when “Clearly FTL travel isn’t possible?” (To which you’d answer: “Not yet it isn’t, you non-believer”) before falling quiet and leaving you be. They were small conversations with no more than 3 lines exchanged, but they were more than enough for the butterflies seeping through your ribcage to go on a frenzy.

And despite everything you heard and everything you began to know, Jungkook was possibly the softest, sweetest, and most annoying person you knew. At least superficially.

You still knew nothing personal about him, with your interactions being limited to shared spaces, but you didn’t think much of it until you began to see all kinds of things: his cute habits, his quirks, and even the way his tattoo collection grows.

You’ve silently noticed the way he wiggles his toes when he sits to watch a series, how he blinks a lot when he’s confused. You’ve seen the way he scratches the back of his head when he’s not confident about something, and how his eyes smile before his lips do, and the way his laugh resonates all around the room in the most euphoric melodies. All of this you come to know as unequivocally Jungkook. And you know, you know you’re so whipped for him that you can’t stop being in-tuned with it, with his little things.

But you’re also aware of your situation, and it doesn’t surprise you when your chest starts to hurt over it — over him, because you see his other things: the way each week curls a different girl around his waist, the way his eyes turn cold when he says he doesn’t do relationships, and the way he looks at you.

It’s never with disgust or anything of the sort. It’s just that you’ve seen the way he looks at the girls he fucks with, the girls he finds attractive, the girls he likes for a single night to then discard them.

And he’s never looked at you like that. You suppose that’s good, but... then again, you guess it means you’re nothing. After all, Jeon Jungkook never offers you any hope, he never shows any interest. Technically you’re not even his friend — not really. You’re Taehyung’s other best friend, an outside addition to his usual friend group, and now to his life. You’re okay with that, you have to be. You haven’t sought him out, haven’t done anything to close the gap between you. Water and care is something you never wanted to give your unjustified feelings. You never wanted them to grow, even now.

You just failed to take note of the rain pouring over the earth and pooling beneath your feet, and you don’t notice you’re drowning until you see him at the end of the day.

The girl attached to him is a stranger to you, just like the rest you’ve seen, yet you can’t seem to shake the thought that something must be different. Whatever she has seems to be enough for the tattooed man to shatter his distaste for PDA, at least for the time being.

Your legs hesitate to unceremoniously halt in the middle of the hall. Your eyes battle not to widen and not to stare, for a second desperate to make sure that what you’re seeing is real, that you’re seeing Jungkook kiss for the first time in forever as if you hadn’t known all this time that he fucks and loves behind closed doors.

And it doesn’t matter that the kiss isn’t gentle, that he’s kissing her as if she were the very air he needed to breathe. No, what makes you sick is how he notices, how he sees you, and how he does nothing but pull her closer in response.

You push yourself to move as soon as his eyes drift away again, unwilling to tremble before him and unwilling to make any more mistakes.

Class would have to wait. You needed coffee, even if it meant being late. And you absolutely hate being late to Astrophysics, but you definitely hated seeing him more.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts jungkook #bts fic #bts fanfiction #drabble series: dct

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jawabear · 4 years

Text

(2) A Lesson In Want (Maxwell Lord x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: So, here's the second part. I was feeling soft while writing so that reflected in my writing so I’m sorry if Max seems out of character here...but I hope you enjoy it any way. Also I’m sorry for any mistakes...

Genre: smut, fluff

Warnings: S M U T, sex.. Max is soft in this because I really wanted a hug while writing this...Pedro Pascal comes with his own warning

Summary: Two days alone. Two very long days alone. If Max finally submits to his feelings, will he get everything he wants? Will she finally give herself to him?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Epilogue

Call me when you want me baby xx

-(Y/N)

Max stared that the note as he had been for two days since he had been given it. And those two days had never felt longer. For two days, he had be contemplating when to call her. He wanted her. Desperately. But was this all some kind of game? He didn’t wasn’t to give into to the submission she was forcing him into. He didn’t want to call her straight away. Well, he did but he didn’t want to hurt his pride by admitting he was beat by her.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Thinking about that evening. The image of her would pop into his mind at the most inappropriate of times. He would get hard and have to awkwardly excuse himself to sort it out. He didn’t like the idea of walking about his office building with a hard on. He wouldn’t be surprised if people had picked up on his strange behaviour, but everyone was too scared to say anything to him if they did.

So he sat at his desk. Staring at the note. Thinking about her. Wanting to call her. His pride was holding him back.

But damn, he wanted to call her. He wanted to hear her voice. He wanted her to pour her sweet words into his ear over the phone. He wanted to touch himself while listening to her talk to him, she would be none the wiser to his actions.

“Fuck” he let out a harsh swear as he slammed his fist on his desk and reached for his phone. He had never dialled a number so fast. He was surprised he had got it right consider his hands were shaking in want and anticipation. He held the phone to his ear and waited. He heard the dull beep sound, only once and then she answered. She must’ve been waiting for him.

“Mr Lord, how nice of you to finally call me” she teased down the phone. He had to swallow down the groan that formed in his throat. He couldn’t give in that easy.

“(Y/N)...” he choked out “you told me to call you when I want you. Well, I want you”

“You do?” She questioned “I’m surprised you managed to last as long as you did. I thought I would’ve had you knelt in front of me by now”

“You think I would kneel for you?” He grunted. Testing the waters to see how she would react to his cockiness. She didn’t react well.

“I know you would. And you will” Her voice was stern and commanding. He felt like he could come undone right there and then, but he didn’t. “You know you will”

He did know he would.

“Say it for me baby” her voice dripped with innocence. She was driving him crazy “say that you will kneel for me”

He swallowed down his pride, his eyes flicking to his office door to make sure it was shut so no one would hear his confession of submission to her “I’ll kneel for you. I’ll do anything for you” he told her. He could practically hear the smirk on her face.

“There’s a good boy” he shivered at the name she called him “how badly do you want me, Mr Lord?”

“So badly” he answered immediately “I want you desperately (Y/N)” he began to shift uncomfortably in his chair, he wanted her to touch him again. He just wanted some kind of friction so he could have his sweet release.

“Well, as much as I would love to have you screaming for me. Begging me for release, I’m a little busy at the moment”

“Wh-What?” He stuttered breathlessly “no!”

“Yes. What did I tell you baby? You need to learn a little patience. But don’t worry big boy, I’ll give you exactly what you want tonight. I’ll even dress up real nice for you. Would you be happy with that?”

“Fuck, yes (Y/N)” he moaned

“I’ll meet you at your place then. At 9. See you then lover boy” the line went dead and he felt dizzy. She had worked him up good and she hadn’t done anything to him. He was in deep.

“Fuck”

That day could not have gone any slower. It dragged on and it pained him. Three times he had to relieve himself from the thought of her. He could hear her voice in his head. Her dirty words were imprinted in his brain. He was thankful for it, it gave him something to get off to, but he also hated it, hearing her voice at times when he really shouldn’t.

And then when he was finally home, all he could do was stare at the clock, watch the time slowly tick on, no matter how much he glared at it, time would not bend to his will. He would just have to wait.

He would just have to be patient.

He tried to occupy himself by reading through paper work but he had finished that too quickly. You would think that in his grand estate he would easily be able to find something to pass the time, but when you live alone, what good is have a massive house if you have no one to share it with.

It got to the point where he could do nothing but pace around, glancing at the clock. It were as if it were teasing him, going purposely slow to really teach him the lesson that she kept enforcing on him. He hated it. He couldn’t be patient. He wasn’t use to having to wait as long as he was for something he wanted. He would ask for something and a number of people would race to get it for him as quickly as possible.

But no one else could give her to him except her.

The clock let out a low dong as it finally struck nine. And there was a knock at the door.

He raced towards it and paused for a moment. He composed himself, taking a deep breath in through his nose and letting it back out through his mouth. He straightened his clothes. His “causal” wear consisting on a plain dress shirt with a few button undone and some dark trousers. Not very causal.

His hands shakily reaches out to his door handle and pulled it open. It was her.

Her back was too him, she was staring out into the cold night. Her hands were shoved into her winter jacket that covered her body. She let out a breath, fogging from the chill. “(Y/N)” He said making her turn to face him.

“Mr Lord” she created with a nod. She noticed her shiver slightly and he stepped to the side to allow her inside. She smiled and stepped into the threshold of his mansion.

“Shall I take your coat?” He asked. Ever the gentleman. His hands reached to her shoulders but she shook her head, sending a soft smile his way.

“I’m a little cold, so I’ll keep it on for now, if that’s okay” her voice was quiet. Something was different about her. She seemed...friendly. Not that she wasn’t already, just, now she seemed more open with him. Her voice was a lot warmer than usual, it was less smooth. She sounded a lot sweeter, a lot kinder. She just seemed happier almost.

He nodded at her request “I have a fire going if you wanted to warm yourself there” he lead her into his living room where his large fire place was blazing bright orange.

She let out a soft gasp as she stood in front of it, holding out her hands to warm them from the heat. He pulled a blanket from his sofa a laid it out on the floor in front of the fire. He sat down into it and took her hand, pulling her down to sit with him.

He admired the way her skin glowed in the flickering orange light, how it perfectly outlined her body, how it so perfectly reflected in her beautiful eyes. Her smile had not left her face since she entered his home and he adored it. He adored her.

He lead forwards and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. An action that shocked both of them. “I’m sorry” he apologised quickly when she turned to look at him with wide eyes. “I don’t know-“

She cut him off by pressing a kiss to his lips. It was a soft kiss, but a loving, warm kiss. “You missed”

He smiled and kissed her again. His arm circled around her waist and pulled her closer to him. She got onto his lap, straddling his waist, her hands on his cheeks. Both his arms were now around her waist, his hands trailing up her back as she kissed him.

His tongue swiped across her bottom lips and she happily allowed him access into her mouth to explore. Their tongues danced with each other in her mouth, a soft hum coming from her when his hands caressed her hips. She pulled back from him and pushed him down onto his back.

He watched with hungry eyes as her hands skilfully unbuckled the belt of her jacket. She slipped it off her shoulder and threw it to one side.

He couldn’t breath.

She wore nothing but a set of lilac lace lingerie. He couldn’t help but gawk hat her body being perfectly framed by the light of the fire behind her. She was a goddess. He sat up straight. He paused for a moment, his mind was dizzy, he was frozen for a while. He admired with his eyes and his hands every curve of her body. Every inch of skin, he claimed. And she let him. She was his and he was most definitely hers.

“You came here in just that? In this weather?” He asked her quietly, his head tilting up to meet her gaze.

“Well, I told you I would dress up nice for you” she smiled “I didn’t want to disappoint you Mr Lord”

“You could never disappoint me” he whispered. He began to place gentle kisses on the soft skin of her chest. She didn’t realise he was capable of such softness. He gave off the impression that he was rough all of the time, he was quick and harsh in his love making. But she guess that he didn’t make love. He fucked.

“Please, just call me Max” he whispered to her, his lips making their way to her neck. “Do you still want me to kneel for you?”

She let out a quiet groan and pulled his face out of her neck. “You’re already at my mercy. I didn’t even need to ask for you to touch me”

“Because I want to feel you (Y/N). I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel” he whispered breathlessly to her. Her silky smooth tone was slowly creeping back into her voice. He was slightly disappointed, he rather enjoyed the soft moment that they shared, he enjoyed seeing that warm side of her, but he had that memory in his mind. He was okay with getting a little rough now.

She pressed her lips to his ear and made him shudder slightly “And how do I make you feel?” She asked in a low tone.

“So good” he answered her immediately “so so good”

“Describe it to me baby boy” she smirked. She nipped at his ear and pushed him back down onto the blanket. She began to slowly undo the buttons of his shirt. His breath began to pick up in anticipation “are you going to tell me baby?” She asked him.

“Uh-Uh” he stuttered, swallowing thickly as she pressed a kiss to each new piece of exposed skin. “You-you get me so h-hot” he began, he felt a little embarrassed talking to her like this. He was used to hearing the girl say these things to him. “I get so hard just listening to your voice...I k-keep thinking about that evening at the p-party. S-seeing you on me like that...god I have to keep leaving my meeting to touch myself”

“Really?” She said to him. She slipped off his shirt and her hands roamed his bare chest. He loved it. Her hands were so perfect against him, better then he ever imagined them to feel. “You think about me when you touch yourself baby boy?”

“Yes...you’re always in my mind...I can’t escape you...I’m always thinking about you. I’m always coming to the thought of you...the thought of all the things you’d do to me...” her hands moved lower down his body. She dragged down the zip of his trousers and tugged them down his legs, throwing them to the side with her jacket and his shirt.

“What kind of things would I do to you Max?” He loves the way his name sounded coming from her sweet lips. He couldn’t wait until she was screaming it underneath him.

“Touching me...sucking the head of my dick...grinding yourself onto me...god..I could feel how wet you are in my thoughts...how your panties stick to you when you rub yourself on me” her hands gently stroked along his thighs, getting agonisingly close to his dick and then pulling away again “a-and then...being inside you...fuck you would be so wet for me...I could slip right it. Seeing you face as I stretch you out...hearing you moan my name as I fuck you...”

She hummed and licked up his shaft through his boxers. He drew in a sharp breath and his hips thrust up against her. “Is that what you want?” She asked him quietly, her hand now rubbing circles onto his crotch “I said I would give you exactly what you want”

“Yes...I want that...I want you...I want to fuck you” he panted

She kissed up his body and kissed his lips again “okay baby” she whispered to him. Their lips moved against each other in perfect sync. His hands were desperate against her hips as she slowly began to drag her self across his crotch. He grit his teeth and let out a groan as she whimpered. “God baby, you’re soaking through onto me”

“It’s what you want right?” She whispered against his lips before letting out another whimper. He nodded and reached his hand up into her head, holding her face against his in a deep kiss. Her hips began to pick up their pace, her whimpers now turning into moans as the tip of his length continuously brushed against her clothed clit sending bolts of pleasure up her body. His other hand came down onto her ass in a sharp slap. Her hips jolted and she let out a quiet scream as her lips parted from his, her forehead resting against his. “Max, it feels so good” she said, her eyes sliding shut.

“Are you gonna come?” He asked, his words hitting her face as he gripped her ass tightly in his hand, it was sure to leave a mark there but she didn’t care, the more marks he left on her the better.

“Yes...do you want me too?” She asked him.

“Yes...come on me” he groaned.

She nodded and a few more thrusts later her climax washed over her body, making her shake violently at first, as if she had been deprived of such pleasure for a long time. He took note of this but thought not to say anything in that moment. She kissed him again and quickly slipped down his body, pulling his boxers down and letting his hard length spring free. He sat up slightly but fell back down to the floor when she took his tip into her mouth. Her hand pumping the rest of him.

“Oh...fuck (Y/N)” he groaned loudly, his hand fining it way back into her hair, holding her down on him. Her tongue swirled deliciously around his head. His world spun. He couldn’t get out any words. Only broken and strangled moans leaving his mouth. This time it felt different, it felt so much better. “I’m-I’m going to come...” he managed to get out. She didn’t stop this time. She only went harder. Her hand squeezed him and he came into her mouth. His hips jolting up into her. His mind went white with hot pleasure and he let out a strangled moan of her name that was sent straight to her core making her moan against him before releasing his member with a slight pop.

She lifted her head and he watched as she swallowed his come. A dirty smirk plastered over her beautiful face. He couldn’t help but let out the most pathetic noise he had ever made. He could feel himself getting hard again at the literal fire in her eyes. She was looking like the devil and he was happy to sell his soul to her.

She straddled his waist again. Her hands going behind her back and undoing her bra. She peeled it off her body and then made quick work of removing her panties and discarding both items to the growing pile of clothes beside them. “Fuck” he let the swear slip past his lips as he sat up. His face immediately was at her chest. His hands at her back, holding her as close to him as possible as he suck on her perky bud. She moaned softly and threw her head back, her fingers gliding through his soft hair.

“Oh Max” she whispered as he swapped sides. He released her nipple and trailed his kisses up her chest, sucking briefly on the skin of her neck, making sure it left a mark, before kissing her lips again. “How do you want me?” She asked him

“What do you want?” He asked her, his kisses were placed all over her nose face and upper neck. For a moment she was too lost in the feeling to answer but when she felt his dick nudging at her wetness she answered.

“I want..” she breathed “I want to ride you...I want you to h-hold me like this...while you make love to me...”

“Make love to you?” He smirked, biting her neck slightly making her gasp.

“Please...” now she was the one begging “please make love to me Max”

He could’ve been cruel and denied her of her wish, he would’ve if it were any other woman. He would sit back and watch them squirm in want of having their release but she wasn’t any other woman. She was his woman. And all he wanted to do was love her.

He moved his hand between their bodies, slipping his hand between her legs and rubbing along her slit a few times. He groaned at how wet she was and then he took his member in his hand and aligned it at her entrance. His other hand slipped to her waist and carefully pulled her down onto him. He watched in awe as her face twisted at the pleasurable stretch he was putting her through. Her mouth fell open and a delayed moan left her lips “Oh fuck Max...you’re so big” she painted as she began to bounce on his length.

“And you’re so tight...” he groaned against her neck “so fucking tight”

“I-is that okay?” Her voice was small, almost inaudible if not for their closeness.

“Baby, it’s fucking perfect. You’re perfect” he moaned. One of his knees bent behind her to give her something to steady herself in if she needed to. He placed kisses all the way along her chest and up her neck. He wanted to go faster but she wanted him to make love to her. And to Max, making love meant going slow. He gradually began to meet her thrusts with his.

“Am I what you imagined?” She asked him. Her seductive tone flowing back into her voice. “Is this what you thought of when you would touch yourself baby boy?”

“You’re so much better” he moaned loudly “so much fucking better then I could ever imagine...fuck you’re so fucking tight...you’re so wet...you’re so fucking good baby” her forehead came to rest upon his. Their hot breaths fanning against each other’s faces with every thrust. Eventually she had let him take the lead. He thrust sharply into her continuously, each time electing a sweet and loud moan from her lips. “You’re so beautiful (Y/N)...so fucking beautiful”

“You’re so good Max...” She panted into his ear “so good for me...and you’re all mine...aren’t you” it wasn’t a question. It was a statement. She knew he belonged to her. She knew he was happy to be hers.

Her words only encouraged him to go faster and harder “Yes (Y/N), I’m all yours...only yours” he pleaded with her.

“Max...I’m going to come...” she whimpered to him. Her hands gripping his hair tightly.

“Me too” he groaned to her. His hips were fully off the floor and slamming into her making her scream.

“Max!” She cried, her walls clenching around his dick, pulling him closer and closer to his edge. She slammed her lips against him in an attempt to silence herself. But it didn’t last long. His hand wormed it’s way between their sweating bodies and began to rub tight circles on her clit. Her lips fell from his and she let out a quiet scream. Her head falling to his neck as her climax hit her like a truck. She made a noise that he could not describe. But he loved it. So much so that it sent him wild and he came inside her.

His thrusts began to slow down until they came to a complete stop. The two stayed connected for a moment. Their hot bodies pressed tightly together. His living room being filled with the sound of heavy breaths, whimpers and the soft crackling of the fire.

He slowly lowered them both to the floor, she was still above him, her face buried him his neck and her knee digging into his waist. “Fuck baby” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her head. She didn’t respond. He rolled her over and she whimpered when he pulled out of her. Her body curled up. He pulled the blanket out from under them and covered their naked bodies in the thin fabric. He laid back down beside her and she instantly pressed her body back against his.

Her head lay on his bare chest which was now set in a more steady rhythm after her regained his breath. Her finger occasionally stroking his skin as she let out a soft sigh of content. His arm was loosely around her shoulders, his own fingers tracing light patterns on her arm. The room now only filled with the soothing sound of the slowly dimming fire, “You know,” he began in a gentle voice “I didn’t think you were real”

“What do you mean?” She asked, her voice also gentle, quiet.

“You are the woman of my dreams. I imagined a perfect woman, one who I was sure would never exist, yet here you are. But, I don’t know if you are really here. I asked people about you, but no one knows who you are. No one has ever heard of you. And I could never find you. You always found me. So I began to think that maybe you were just a figment of my imagination. I must have one hell of an imagination to create all this”

She lifted her head from his chest, he already missed her warmth. Her hand moved from his chest to lightly caress his cheek, she held a soft smile on her rosy lips. She pressed them against his in a gentle, loving kiss “I’m real” she assured him. She pulled back and laughed slightly “am I really the woman of your dreams?”

“You are now” he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back down onto him pressing his lips to hers once again in a deeper kiss. “Let me take you to bed” he offered quietly. She nodded. His arms slipped under her ass as he sat up, he was careful when standing, he didn’t want to drop her but he also didn’t want to stop kissing her. Once he managed to get to his feet, her still safe in his arms, he walked out of the room, leaving to fire to die down on its own, and leaving the pile of discarded clothing where it was.

He had to momentarily remove his lips from her as she quickly carried her up the stairs but his lips were on hers again as she took her to his bedroom. He placed her onto his bed, she was pleasantly surprised at how soft it was, and of course his sheets were like silk, cool under her heated body making her hum against his lips.

He pulled back from her and rolled off her body, laying beside her and pulling up the covers. She lifted them against her nose, breathing in his scent and letting out a soft sigh. “I really like you” she whispered, shuffling closer to his body.

“I really like you too” he replied, brushing a piece of hair away from her eye.

“Can we do this again?” She asked hopefully

“That depends”

“On what?”

“On if you’re going to disappear from me again...like you always do” his voice was quiet and almost sad.

She lifted her hand to his cheek and gently rubbed his flushed skin with her thumb “I can’t make any promises Max. It depends on the morning. As much as I would love to stay here with you, if my job call me, I have to go”

“What is your job that you have to disappear on me all the time?”

She was silent for a moment and just looked at him. She could see that he was slightly hurt by her constant coming and going, she also hated having to leave him after every meeting. But she couldn’t tell him the truth of her job. Not yet at least “I can’t tell you that Max”

“What?”

“I would if I could. I would tell you everything about me. But I can’t...to be honest, you shouldn’t even know my name” she shuffled away from him and sat up, she was preparing to leave, bracing herself for his harsh words telling her to leave “We shouldn’t have done any of this. But I like you to much to not do it. I can’t stop myself when it comes to you. You just make me feel so good. Better then anyone ever has. One day, I promise, I will tell you everything...but right now...I can’t...I’m sorry Max”

There was a heavy silence for a moment but then she felt his warm hands pull her back down onto the bed, back into his chest where she felt so safe. “Don’t be sorry” He soother her, his hand running up and down her back “I believe you will tell me, when the time is right. As long as...this actually means something to you”

“Yes” she said quickly, her eyes desperately meeting his “it does Max. It means everything to me...” she kissed him again, pouring ever ounce of her love and adoration into him “please...don’t leave me”

“(Y/N), I’ve waited to long to have you here, I’m noting going to give you up that easy” he assured her. Her face was buried in his neck and soon she was asleep in his arms. Now that he knew she was safe and calm he allowed himself to fall asleep as well. His heart had never felt so full. He had never felt so at peace then he was in that moment. She was truly something. She was truly his.

Should I make a part three?

27/03/20

#Maxwell lord #Maxwell lord x reader #Maxwell lord fanfic #Wonder Women 1984 #WW1984 #fluff #smut #Pedro Pascal #fanfic

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leggomylino · 4 years

Text

Dark Rising☽✮☾Act One

☽✮☾ Dark Rising Masterlist ☽✮☾

Genre: Horror/Thriller, Drama, Romance, Comedy

Pairing: NCT’s Johnny Suh x fem!reader (x ???)

Word count: 5.9k

Warning(s): mentions of blood, yandere-esqe themes, cuts/injuries, soul stealing and kidnapping. Possibly more in the future depending on what the original authors decide. They write for ot9 and so do I.

A/N: Main Masterlist in BIO! | This is a spinoff series to the SKZ fanfiction Twisted Karnival, by @gaiyofanfiction. It can be read alone, but you are encouraged to read the original story first. At the authors’ request, I will take this down if asked to do so. I do not own Twisted Karnival or Stray Kids, or Johnny Suh, or any characters used in this. All credit goes where credit is due. The events that happen in this story are not canon in the original story, this is simply a work of fandom and appreciation, and thus will tie into canon events as closely as possible in respect to the original works. All that being said… Thank you. <3

IMPORTANT -> (** This story picks up after the events of Twisted Karnival, Chapter 6. While this can be read as a stand-alone fic, better understanding can be found upon first reading through T.K. Ch. 6. Please support the series! ♫)

~ ☽✮☾ ~

A cross necklace, and a whistle. That’s all you had to defend yourself.

The sky was dark outside the main tent, the walkways bare and lifeless. A cold breeze swept up from the South, adding to the chills that threatened to tear you down where you stood like a hazardously put-together Jenga tower. One wrong tug, one sudden misstep, and you would be a heap at their disposal...they being the nine demonic beings encircling an unfortunate young girl who couldn’t be far from your age.

You were watching now from the back of the tent, through a small flap that had been open to allow air to circulate after the events that had taken place. It wasn’t nearly large enough for a person to fit through, about the size of one’s head, with a slit of velvet and silk curtain separating the back passage from the main stage. You’d lucked out, really, that one of the younger demons had come tromping by complaining about the humidity and had opened it for your eyes to witness.

Though in some ways, you really wish you hadn’t. You felt like you were going to be sick, seeing this poor girl bruised and crying, blood seeping down her arms and through the rips in her jeans.

“Hey, come on. It’s going to be okay. This is why you’re here.”

A hand fell lightly on your shoulder from the man beside you. You looked to him with clouded eyes and doubt in your heart, before turning back to the scene unraveling before you, whilst your fingers toyed with the chain and pendant around your neck.

You weren’t sure where it had come from or why you were here. But apparently that’s what this man, Johnny, was for.

Let’s back up a bit. Okay, picture this: You were just a regular girl minding your business, walking out from your part-time job to go straight home like the good student you liked to think you were, the only thing on your mind the leftover BLT waiting for you in the fridge, when you’d come across a crowd buying (or rather, receiving free) tickets from two dangerously handsome (and somewhat scary looking) strangers. Life had been peachy before all of this; sure, a little stressful balancing a life that consisted of school, a job, and a small almost non-existent social life, but hey, it wasn’t bad.

That’s when he’d first showed up.

“Suspicious, isn’t it?” He’d asked, staring into the crowd with his hands in his deep dark trench-coat pockets. He’d completely snuck up on you, appearing out of nowhere to your right and effectively scaring the daylights out of you. And you’ll admit, you let out a noise that wasn’t exactly...ladylike. Something between a “bwarf!” and a screech. It’d managed to turn a few heads nearby, but Johnny, who you hadn’t known was his name just yet, only pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. “It’s nice to meet you too,” he said, training his eyes back on the growing crowd. His face went from lighthearted-borderline amusement to vacant and dim.

“Do you see all these people here?”

You stared at him a moment before following his gaze, a frown encasing your lips. Who did this guy think he was, first scaring the daylights out of you and now trying to strike up a conversation and keep you from that delicious leftover BLT calling your name? “Uh...yeah…” Slowly, you turned your head back up to face him, brow arched. “...I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“Nah. But I can fix that.” He held out his hand without taking his eyes off the wavering crowds of innocent bystanders, a faint smile taking over for the hair of a second as he introduced himself. “Call me Johnny. It’s a pleasure.”

“......” You stared at his outstretched hand for an awkward moment too long before hesitantly grabbing it, shaking it once, twice, before becoming...pleasantly aware of how incredibly soft and warm his skin was, and the comforting pulse that radiated through your whole body. It soothed each ache and pain from the day’s toil like an iron over a smooth silk sheet. Every wrinkle and crease had vanished.

Woah...it’s like...I feel like a totally new person...where did all this energy come from?

...Observing him in awe, you’d almost forgotten to give him your name in return, gaping up at him as you were like a fish out of water. “...U-Uh...I’m--”

“Y/n,” he stated, matter-of-fact. Your eyes went wide.

What the heck? “...How did you know…?”

“Shhh,” he kneeled down to be at eye-level, for he was an incredibly tall individual. A typical dark, mysterious, handsome stranger all the girls in high school dream of encountering, except he couldn’t possibly be a bad or dangerous guy...in fact, you couldn’t help but want to cling to him. It was crazy, but just being within eyesight was enough to make you feel safe. Which was odd...and crazy. Definitely crazy. It didn’t make any rational sense whatsoever. Which is why you found your body taking the smallest of nudges and half-steps closer to his side, to this man you knew nothing about save for his name and the fact that he made you feel nearly invincible by some nameless sorcery.

When he leaned down, his cheek was practically against yours. Despite feeling safe, you began to sweat.

Johnny pointed far out into the crowd, where the two gothic-looking boys in strange but attractive attire were shouting and waving flyers around, passing out tickets in between, some yellow, others black. Each of them looked charming and genuine beyond belief. Heck, you wanted to buy a ticket from them too; and maybe a lunch date.

You held up a hand to point as well, trying to remain as discreet as possible. “Those guys?”

Johnny nodded, lowering your arm slowly and moving to stand behind you. You would have been weirded out and panicking had you not felt so unusually calm and comforted by his presence. Seriously, something is up with this guy. I don’t know anything about him and yet...ugh, it’s like I’ve known him my whole life. Talk about cringe...

He placed his hands over your eyes, and you closed them on instinct. You didn’t have time to question, and again, you found that you couldn’t, anyway. Somehow, something deep inside told you to trust him. “Now,” he continued, “when I count to three and let go, you’re going to see something that isn’t so pretty. But don’t be alarmed, they can’t hurt you. I promise that nothing you see can hurt you. This is really important, so I’m going to repeat it again, because the last human I said these words to nearly had a heart attack because they didn’t listen: I promise, nothing you see can physically hurt you. Understand?”

You began to squirm, growing more impatient by the second, what with your stomach growling and all. “Yeah, yeah, I got it already! I’m waiting!” ...That BLT wasn’t gonna eat itself, y’know? But really, at the same time, you weren’t entirely sure you wanted him to let go.

But then he reached a final count. And he did let go, slowly as not to startle you and give you time to adjust.

What you saw was a thing of nightmares.

The sky had grown dark, blood red shrieking at you from behind pitch black clouds. A scream caught in your throat; you were too speechless to move, or speak, or do anything but stare in absolute horror.

The people around you had all become vessels. They were still human, but...different. Rather than solid beings, they’d become hollow and see-through, as if they were made of mist or steam. Everyone had a light at their core, which instinct told you was…

...Their spirit. It’s pulsing with energy and life.

Some were dull and barely hanging onto life. Others were bright and vibrant, bursting with color and joy. Many were somewhere in between, balanced and average, each telling a new story, a different tale; a little girl worried about starting kindergarten, a man who was down on his luck and endlessly searching for a new job. A woman who’d just gotten engaged, a teenager wondering if he should risk punishment bringing the stray cat in his bag home. Everyone had a different story, varying concerns, sadness and joys.

But there was one in particular that was a conundrum. It wasn’t necessarily good, or bad, or anything like the others: what it was was pure and vivid beyond belief. It was almost blinding, but...there was a film around it, choking out the light. A ball of white light encased in a mist of thick, gray fog. The demons were eyeing it like a rare delicacy they’d been deprived of for years…

And it was emanating from a young girl, who couldn’t be any younger than you.

And then you’d gasped, because that’s when you realized what they were. Demons. Monsters. Vile creatures targeting humankind. There were two of them-- the well-dressed boys from before. But they’d changed now, those innocent young men long gone, left behind to shadows and ancient rust. Their true appearance...or whatever this was...was too terrible to describe. It was worse than any horror movie you’d been forced into seeing.

The thing that made it worse was that it wasn’t a horror movie. This was real.

The scream in your throat had long dissipated into empty gapping and heavy realization, and it was at this point Johnny must have decided he wasn’t very good at first impressions other than the whole making-you-feel-safe-with-a-simple-handshake-and-being-within-eyesight, because the next thing you knew he’d spun you around to face him, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“Sorry you had to see that so soon. But we’re running out of time and I know how brave you really are. I thought it’d be easier if we tackled the first milestone a little early, crash course style.”

What…?

But then he’d swiveled you back around, and everything was back to normal. The crowds, the noise, the gothic-themed advertisements. The blood-painted sky, the dark clouds, the vessels and auras and demonic dark blobs that you couldn’t get past describing-- they’d all gone, and two cheerfully sly salesmen remained, making it rain tickets and creatively crafted flyers left and right.

“What...What was that?!” You demanded, anxiety blooming late in your chest. Screw feeling safe, that was still terrifying as heck! Surely you’d fallen asleep at work and were just overtired...right? Right…?

Maybe this was all just a dream. You’d fallen asleep at your desk again, and any minute now your coworker Chenle would be batting you with a rolled-up newspaper or gently shaking you awake if he knew you’d really had a hard day, or-- er-- and--

“Th-The lights and the shadowy blobs and- and all the noise just disappeared, it was so quiet, and those two--” You shivered, taking a step back and bumping into Johnny, who held you firm. “Those two...they’re...they were…”

You were beginning to hyperventilate. The man behind you sighed. “I know.” He gave your shoulders a slight squeeze, and you felt that soothing impression run over you once more, helping your breaths to relax, your pulse slowing to a steady, normal thump. “It’s exactly as you saw it. Each sphere of light is someone’s spirit encased in their aura.”

“Their...aura?” The frick was he talking about?!

“Yeah. Like I said, we’re pressed for time here, so try to keep up. A lot of people think they’re one in the same, but they’re not. Your aura is tied into your emotions, both on the surface and buried in your subconscious. It’s the bridge that connects the two. They can be manipulated at will by many factors…” His eyes landed heavily on the two demonic creatures disguised as charming young stagehands now maneuvering their way through the crowd to pass out tickets faster and with more demand than voluntary. “...But it is seperate from the spirit. Your spirit is your lifesource. It’s who you are and what defines you. Auras can easily change, but the spirit is something that takes a lot more elbow grease and determination to turn.”

“......” You hadn’t been sure what to do. What to say. You were practically speechless.

So instead you tilted your head back and asked the only thing on your mind.

“Johnny…who are you?”

He’d only looked down on you with another guarded smile. “You’re about to find out. First, I have a job for you.”

“What? Job?” You frowned. “I’m sorry but, hold on a sec.” You pushed yourself away, but not too far, wanting just the right amount of distance from Tuxedo Mask and the Dark Kingdom not far off. “Listen, I don’t even know you, you just appeared out of nowhere and started showing me all this weird and scary stuff, and preaching to me about heavy topics, and now you want me to perform some...job?” ...You shuddered at the way it’d come out, how it all sounded. Perish the thought.

Johnny, however, remained as calm and nearly stoic as he had been this entire time, puffing his straying locks away from his face and shoving slender fingers into his coat pockets like some cool P.I. Detective...or quite possibly, Tuxedo Mask. Which is how you were slowly beginning to see him. “Perform...ironic.” His eyes flicked over to the girl with the white as snow soul, then back over to the young men (who you were just about dang near positive weren’t really men at this point), making their rounds through the continuously enlarging masses.

The square was steadily growing more and more crowded, forcing you to close the small amount of distance you’d managed to create between you and Johnny. Suddenly one of them, who had secretly been eyeing Snow White this whole time, took off and seemingly disappeared a moment before popping back up right in front of her, engaging her and her friend in conversation.

Meanwhile, Johnny gestured almost bluntly toward the other one, a boy with cherry red hair and fox-like features. “I want you to get yourself a ticket to the carnival.”

“You want...wha?”

It took you a minute to register those words, standing there staring off into space. But before you knew it, a spontaneous gust of gentle wind was literally pushing you into the crowd you’d previously been trying to get around and away from, thus ending the fleeting hope of sitting at home with that delicious, delectable, slowly aging BLT.

“Don’t worry, I’m with you,” the wind whispered...yeah, whispered. It spoke to you, in Johnny’s voice. You weren’t sure if that was meant to comfort you or just...creep you out that much more…not to mention you were apparently the only one that heard it.

...But you guessed you felt a little better knowing Johnny was secretly beside you-- if that really was him-- ...Wait, Johnny…?

The gust of wind that’d stolen Johnny’s voice dropped you off in a small opening a few feet away from a dark red-haired boy with a sly grin and some of the most charming dimples you’d ever seen on such an equally attractive boy, but...no, no. You weren’t going to get swept up in that. Not when you knew the truth. Something was very wrong with this picture, other than the fact this boy was actually a demon of some sort, and you suddenly (by some influence not entirely of your own) had a need to get to the bottom of it.

In the name of the Moon™, I’m onto you.

Your mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened, slightly, taking a step forward.

A new wave of ecstatic carnival-enthusiasts cut you off, swarming the young boy and begging him for tickets, lowkey sending you flying. Ouch. You crossed your arms, a huff of impatience leaving your chest--

And then it was like you blinked, and they were gone, and suddenly the boy was before you. Grinning like the Cheshire Cat. What the…?

But for a wavering moment, just one short second, you could have sworn that something passed over him. Something that had been foreign to him for many years, and had just then, for the slightest of moments, climbed back up to the surface and gotten its first breath of air in what had to be a very long time.

It was fear. Uncertainty. Caution. Insecurity...and it rippled over him like a small pebble dropped into a forgotten spring.

But it had faded and crawled back into its cradle just as quickly as it had come. “...Hello there~” the boy greeted, and the moment he spoke you felt a xylophone being played against your spine. His chords were sweet as honey, playing a siren’s tune. It made the hairs on your neck stand firm. “Are you curious about the carnival as well?”

“......” You’d time-lapsed backwards into gaping-fish mode. All your instincts were screaming at you to run away, scram, scat, get out of there and as far away from this boy, from his accomplice, from everything that had to do with the word carnival as possible, but instead, this happened:

“Um, yeah. Just one, please.”

~ ☽✮☾ ~

...And that’s how you’d ended up here, in a twisted back walkway of the infamous and appropriately titled Twisted Karnival, with what you’d soon found out to be your temporarily self-appointed guardian angel, Johnny, at your side. Because get this: he really was an angel. No, really. Wings and all. He apparently didn’t care to show them much, though…more on that later, it was besides the point. You were here, now, with Johnny, in a demon-run carnival that was all a scam to steal people’s souls for who knows what, and apparently, as Johnny had told you when you finally had managed to make it home and finish off that deliciously awaiting BLT, it was up to you to stop them.

That’s right: you. Y-o-u. A human girl that had absolutely NO connection to ANY of this shenanigans until now and would much rather be laughing at the corny overexaggerated jokes of your favorite night time sitcom but were instead standing in what was literally hell on earth.

Your eyes glanced down to the pendant nuzzled between your fingers. A gift from Johnny that he’d basically thrown at you on the way over and almost poked your eye out. Apparently, it was supposed to protect you, and so far it hadn’t done a bad job, you’d admit: “As long as you have it on you,” he’d said as the two of you skulked about the festival grounds, “They won’t be able to see you from a specified distance. The higher ranking the demon, the less effective it is. But get within three feet of any of them, and it’s game over.”

“What about you?” You’d asked, worriedly tossing glances left and right. This carnival was definitely haunted, or infested with some kind of bad juju.

He’d only smiled in return. (He did a lot of smiling for a guy so seemingly serious.)

“Don’t worry about me. They can only see me if I let them...or if I run out of juice. But don’t worry about that right now. Focus on the mission.”

...Sigh. So here you were, at last, staring into an evil tent at an evil ritual happening on evil grounds. Fun.

“Johnny,” you mumbled, gazing sadly back into the dim-auraed tent. “This necklace...you said three feet, right?”

“Yeah.” He glanced at you, then back into the tent as well. “But I told you not to worry too much about it. Even if they do spot you, they won’t be able to touch you so long as you have it touching some part of your body. ...That’s really important, okay? Your pocket won’t work, a small part of it has to make contact with your skin. I’ll say it one more time, for good measure--”

“Don’t. I heard you the first time…”

Geez. Don’t worry, don’t worry. He sure did say that a lot.

“I got it already, just get to the point on what it is that I have to do with any of this. You never explained why it has to be me or why I’m here. Also, shouldn’t we be helping her right now?!”

“...No. Listen to me, be careful to never take that necklace off--”

“What do you mean no?! Are you kidding me right now?!?”

“Shhh!” He pulled the two of you down for the count of twenty rapidly-pacing heartbeats, then slowly back up when he’d deemed the coast to be clear.

Be careful, be careful… Ugh. Your questioning brow gave away your deposition as your thoughts trailed off, peering annoyed and worriedly back at nine handsome men surrounding a helpless injured young woman. “...Why would I do a dumb thing like that?” you asked, countering the previous topic. “Are you kidding me? I don’t have a death wish--”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” His face grew sad and melancholy despite the gentle smile he wore for you. At least 80% of the past few hours, anyway. “Demons are crafty. They’re clever. Though they can’t remove it themselves, they’ll find ways to convince you to do it, to expose yourself to them from the inside. They’ll get in your head and manipulate your heart. It happens all the time…it’s what they’re good at.” He scoffed a bit, nodding to the youngest boy in the circle. “That’s what happened to him.”

“What? Wait, the blob-- I mean, boy...who gave me a ticket?”

You pondered curiously at the red-headed kid with fox-like features. You didn’t know his name, so you’d decided to dub him as Cherry Boy for now. Creative, yes.

“Yeah.” Johnny shifted his weight to one side, inclining his head just slightly. “Not all demons are born demons. A lot of them were once human, or...something else.”

A heavier sadness filled his eyes, a painful memory taking place beyond them. You didn’t like the way he’d said “something else”... You started to reach out for his hand, yet decided against it. You still didn’t know him that well.

You’d try to pry the truth out of him, gently. “Like...what?” you pressed softly.

He took a hefty breath, taking his time to single out two more of the demons you’d soon have the joy of getting to know. All in good time. “That one…and that one, over there.”

“Wait...the...tiger guy? And Freckles?” Your lips pursed. “What about them? They weren’t human?”

Johnny shook his head. “They, uh…” There was an uncomfortably long pause. His next words were so quiet, you really had to strain your ears to hear them, despite the fact he was right beside you: “...fell.”

“...Fell?”

It rolled off your tongue like a stone. Johnny began to sweat. “...From grace. They fell from grace.” He rubbed the back of his neck with equal discomfort. “It’s not something I enjoy talking about. Basically, they were tricked and dragged down to earth and…” he swallowed. “Well, one was dragged, but he’d made the mistake of giving his consent beforehand. He was fooled into a false contact. The other, he was simply fooled into coming down willingly, by use of twisted words. When the song played...it was over.”

Song? There was music? …

…A swaying sickness of dread rushed past along the seasonal breeze. “So...you...knew them…?”

There was no answer for a long time. Johnny cleared his throat to break the uncomfortable silence, once the situation inside was beginning to look grim. Like it hadn’t already.

“...Sort of. We were never close, being in different factions and all.”

“Factions?”

“Never mind that. You ask too many questions.” He nodded once more. “Look.”

You turned your head to peek back inside at one of the many sights you wished you could avoid and forget about entirely. (But alas, there was no way that was happening.) The girl with the white soul was now screaming in agony, and the strings that had previously been attached to her by the boys (...men? Demons?) were glowing red, then a bright, crystal blue…

And then you just knew. It was impossible to miss.

She was gone.

The ringleader of the troupe, who the others had called Chan, paced closer to the girl, tucking a finger beneath her chin and lifting her drooping head gently, with such twistedly sickening love and care that was the largest paradox of the century-- how could it be both so loving, yet so dark?-- and dragged it carefully upward, caressing her face. His voice was as soft as silk.

“My little puppet, are you okay?”

You wanted to throw up and pass out right then and there, but Johnny held you firm again, sending his soothing pulses of comfort and security to steady you (and honestly, what a great power to have). You didn’t like it when the leader spoke. It was too...something. Just too much; it reminded you of fairytales like Snow White and Red Riding Hood, where a witch or a wolf or whoever would speak so sweetly, so kindly, and yet tear the other characters apart, ripping the rug out from under them and dragging up their virtues from the inside out. Just as Johnny had said. You could see how anyone could get lost in the distorted forest it was so easily...

A twisted grin appeared on the face of the Snow-White girl, a cacophony of psychotic laughter leaving her rose-tinted lips.

“Yes, Master Chan. I am perfectly fine.”

You shuddered at those words. It was all you could take.

You didn’t know what came over you next, but there were suddenly twenty-seven different emotions flooding through your veins, hyping you up and tearing you down all at once. And you’d already had your time of the month last week, so that definitely wasn’t it.

Was this it? Were you finally transforming into the Sailor Guardian Johnny had made you out to be? You wanted nothing more than to run in there, tell all those demonic freakshows what they could do with their fancy clothes and beautiful but terrifying faces, and make a 180 to the nearest hospital with the girl in tow.

...You also wanted to turn around and run for the hills alone, with Johnny perhaps, never stepping foot on demonic carnival soil ever again. And, you also kinda wanted to puke; which you almost did, again, but thankfully Johnny whipped up some more of whatever calming magic he’d been pumping you full of almost the entire time you were here, and that chased off the sickness for another while. The two of you stepped away from the tent, Johnny assisting you to fresh (only-partially tainted) air.

“...S-So, let me get this straight…” You shook all the goosebumps out, holding your head high and proud now that you had a bit more distance between certain death and crazytown. “You want me-- me-- a normal [high school/college] girl, to go in there and...what, take down the demons? Are you serious? Is this really happening? What the heck am I supposed to do, threaten to call the police? Throw a sucker punch and hope it lands and I don’t get killed or possessed?! ...Don’t they write fantasy books and fanfiction about this kind of crap?” You sighed. “There’s no way I can--”

“Hush,” Johnny instructed, looking a bit nervously toward the terrifying mass inside. You were speaking too loudly again. “You can and you will. I didn’t just choose you at random, all of this was planned by a greater power upstairs.”

“Greater…?” ...You squinted your eyes in suspicion. “Are you talking about--”

“Most likely, yes, that’d be the one,” he winked. “Actually, my boss sent me. I sorta picked you out last minute, but you have a pure heart, and your soul is good too. You have what it takes, as long as you keep your guard up and follow my instructions, we can and will take these guys out.” He gave a thumbs up. “Sound good?”

Sound good?! ...Oh, yes. Risking my life in an insane zero-chance scenario sounds right up my alley, bro man! Sign me up!

You let out a frustrated groan, beginning to pull and mess with your hair, and Johnny once again shushed you and peered around in a tizzy. “But...I don’t even know what to do!” You put your foot down. “I can’t fight! And I...I don’t wanna hurt anyone.”

That last part had come out pretty weak. Johnny scoffed. “You don’t wanna hurt demons?” He rolled his eyes, scratching his head. “That’s a bit surprising.”

You scowled. He just chuckled and sighed.

“Relax. You’re not totally obliterating them.” He smiled, and the next words he spoke actually brought music to your ears...sort of. Good music.

“You’re going to save them.”

“I’m...huh?!”

“Look.” He leaned against a smaller tent behind him, making himself rather comfortable for the case scenario, and your mind suddenly wandered back to that girl inside the main tent. Was this really the time to be having an idle-- semi-kinda-serious-- chat? “I’m sorry I can’t be with you the entire time. Unfortunately that would get in the way of a lot of character development. But I’ll always be nearby.”

“Character...who...wha? ...” Your hands covered your face a moment, to which you sighed heavily into before holding them out before you. “Johnny, okay, hold on--”

“Here,” he said, tossing something shiny into the air. You caught it unexpectedly, nearly dropping it a few times as it almost slipped through careless fingers. You stared at it hard and skeptically.

“What...is this?”

It was some kind of...whistle? “Blow into that when you need help, and I’ll come to you. But only if it’s a real emergency; it’s not a toy, yeah?”

“......” You beheld him with dumbfounded incredibility, face remaining stoic in blank confusion. “...So it’s like...a dog whistle?” You blinked. “You’re my dog now?”

“Ahem,” He coughed, clearing his throat. “...I’d prefer if you didn’t call it that, but, ...yeah, I guess. Essentially. I guess that’s an accurate analogy.”

“...No way.” The whistle went flying over your shoulder as you turned your back, beginning to take the first few much needed steps out of looney-toon central toward the safety of home. In the direction you thought was homebound. “This is insane. I can’t do it. I’m going to a payphone or home or someplace I can get a signal and calling 911--”

...But of course, a six foot wall had to ruin your dramatic and much needed escape. “Hold on…” Tuxedo Mask sighed. “Look, I won’t stop you again if you really want to go, okay? But if you do, these guys are going to continue running around rampat and steal away thousands of more innocent lives. And that girl will never be the same ever again.”

The scowl you sent him actually made him flinch a bit, though he held his ground nonetheless. “Then why don’t you and all the other angels and heavenly powers do something about it!?”

“SHHH!” Covering your mouth, he looked left, then right before releasing you, gritting his teeth in anger. “...Because...dang it, we can’t, okay?”

...He can’t?

“Why not?”

“......” He ran a troubled hand through his neatly groomed hair. “...I mean, we can, but...we’re not allowed to influence freewill or get involved without human intervention. That’s you. It’s complicated, okay? Just...please.”

...W h a t ?

You didn’t understand any of this. He was giving you the most heartbreaking gaze anyone had ever managed to pull off on the face of the planet; like he’d just witnessed you step on a litter of puppies, or you’d taken his heart and stomped all over it and then backed over it with a steamroller, declaring that boys had cooties and you didn’t want to be infected.

“Please think about it. There’s not much time.”

“.............”

You sighed. A long time had passed, but...every second you wasted thinking about it was a second closer to someone else’s demise, to that girl’s apparent destruction. If it wasn’t too late already.

It’s not your problem, y/n, it’s not your problem…

...Except now, it was. You’d already gotten involved just by being here, and witnessing what you had. Your conscience would never let you live that down, were you to walk away, even if it was to get the police or the fire department or an ambulance. Not if you had the power to do something about it.

And what were any of them going to do about it, anyway? These were demons you were dealing with, not stereotypical robbers or serial killers. And even if you were just a girl...

Curse it all. DANG IT!! 😫

“...” You gulped. “...You swear you’ll protect me if I need you? And you’re not going to abandon me?”

He smiled. Yet again. “I try not to swear, but...you have my word.” He placed a hand over his heart, bowing slightly as an old-fashioned gentleman would. It was cheesy, but you couldn’t help admiring his indication and be just a bit flattered.

“And you promise I can really do this? ...Like, you...really need me for this?”

The angel’s eyes sparkled softly beneath the eerily pale moonlit atmosphere. That blood red sky hanging somewhere beneath a sheet of stars and night. “That, I can promise.” He stood up straight, readjusting his thick coat. “Boss called, said you were the one. Or, at least, you would do. I called before confronting you, to make sure.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You mean before magically materializing beside me and scaring me half to death?”

The accursed man laughed. “Yeah, before that.”

“Hnnn…” Your eyes closed. Thought for a moment.

Then you held out your palm. “...Fine, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ll help. Just call me Buffy the...Demon Slayer,” you joked, smirking at your own dumb humor. “Sailor...Y/n? ...Ugh, just give me the stupid whistle.”

Tuxedo Mask smirked again, holding it up for you. But as soon as he placed it in your hand, something...odd happened. Other than all the chaos and oddities that had been occurring for the past however-many hours or so.

A soft, hollow “boom” echoed in the surrounding atmosphere, and you found yourself looking around wildly for any means of nuclear warfare, cringing into the rising darkness. “What the heck was that?!”

“Calm down. That was meant for you. No one else could hear it,” your new guidance counselor explained. Something almost sinister washed over him for one so...holy. “It means that the game has officially begun.”

“Game?!” You practically screeched. “I thought this was serious! What do you mean, game?”

Johnny continued to smirk. “Oh, it’s serious alright.” He adjusted his coat again, turning his back to you. “We need to get you somewhere safe for the night. DON’T worry about that girl, she’s going to be fine...for now. Eventually,” he’d cut you off. “You can start whenever, but you’re probably going to want at least an hour to adjust and come up with a strategy.”

“What?! Hold it, I still have questions I--”

A stray finger waved to you over his fleeting shoulder. “Follow me. Stay close now.”

You just stood there, gaping like a fish again. A reoccurring theme to this story, you'll soon find out. “Johnny...Johnny!”

...You’d had no choice but to follow him; and so the game had officially begun.

Boom. Game on. ✩

~ ☽✮☾ ~

45 notes · View notes

mawwart · 4 years

Note

bro thank u so much for giving the dark skinned obey me boys actual skin tones. in the game they all look kinda sickly (simeon & diavolo whrn he’s full demon especially) and i see your drawing of simeon and he looks so full of life!

There shouldn’t be a need for a thank you but I appreciate it none the less! This might sound silly form someone who’s white but I damn well don’t like some of flawed character design and diversity that goes into otome or hell any game for that matter, but it seems especially harsh in this genre in particular. My family is pretty diverse and a lot of my art has been affected by what makes them happy even if it isn’t intentional, and some of that reflects back onto me when I like something such as Obey Me. Back when I was playing Food Fantasy there were a lot of elements to the game that I liked, especially the character designs... Until you get to chocolate and brownie, aka the most notably “black” characters in the game. Instead of looking anything remotely like a dark skinned human, they look grey and not at all any normal skin tone, and the lack of diversity in the game itself was a bit disappointing since you have foods coming from all parts of the world. Honestly, they could’ve even color referenced a chocolate bar and gotten a better palette for those two... Rant aside, when I seen the characters in Obey Me they looked far better, Instead of beige or khaki colored skin they actually gave Mammon, Dia, and Simeon at least a bit of richness to their skin tones, something more than just an ashy excuse for “brown”. Even though I’m white with blonde hair and blue eyes, my family, friends and community consists of more than that, and that they look nothing like what these games color them as and it’s usually what makes or breaks character design for me. Hell, if I can’t relate to a character that looks like me in terms of being taller than average with a more muscular build rather than the dainty female mc’s most games set their default to I can’t even imagine the disappointment that poc feel y’know? It’s more than just a frustrated sigh or an eye roll, it’s this ache in your chest that happens over and over again. I hate that feeling more than anything and I don’t want others to feel that way either. As a side note this is the exact reason why I love and support oc and self ships. It’s important to see yourself in a way that makes you feel happy and loved when no other media can do it for you.

Anon, I’m sorry for this rant here, but I’ve only had a few hours of sleep and I got emotional so thank you ❤❤❤❤❤❤

#asks

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gothsic · 4 years

Text

LITTLE CHARACTER THINGS

Just a fun little character game. Fill in the below categories with 3-5 things that your character can be identified by. Repost & tag away !

tagged by: @citialiin suplexes you into the sun bc i luv u tagging: whomever wants to !!

EMOTIONS / FEELINGS:

001. DISGUST – Filth, filth, it’s all filth. Everyone is squirming underneath his boot heel, and they’re doing it with a smile. How awful. And yet, he can’t help but smile right back at them. So delighted that they understand their place. If only he could sleep, he might very well get some god-damned peace...

002. ISOLATION – Why is it that looking at the sea reminds him so much of the things that he’d lost? Maybe that’s why he spends so much time sitting out there in the sand, looking out at the ocean as it ebbs and flows, leaves behind the darkened, wet sand. Sometimes, he planted footprints there, and watched them vanish as the water took them away. And no, it wasn’t a comfort. It was, maybe, some sort of reminder to himself.

003. ENVY – WHY does it always have to be that way? Smiling faces admiring another’s work - someone younger than him... he wants it all. He’ll take it for himself if he has to. Why can it not be him at all hours of the day? Always worshipped, always admired. Look at his talent, bask in it... but why do they all head the opposite direction? Could it be that... he’s losing relevance? No, it couldn’t be. And yet, that pain in his stomach simply won’t go away...

004.YEARNING – He has always had a habit of grabbing at things he can’t have. If he can’t have it, he only wants it more. Once he has it, he holds onto it as if he had been utterly fulfilled every which way.

005. RAGE – Always seeing red, always wanting nothing more than to tear at those that denied him a chance at success. Claws that have grown over the years, from frustrated, suppressed anger that originated from the time he was born, perhaps. Now, they slash at whatever they can find; not enough to kill, but enough to leave a scar. A wound. A reminder that he was there once.

GREETINGS:

001. A sarcastic remark, a seemingly chatty man. He seems to have opinions on everything, no matter what the subject. He seems remarkably interested in you, but only insofar as to how involved you are in the subject at hand.

002. He offers you a half-smile. A laid-back appearance. Extends his hand to meet yours to greet you. When you shake his hand, you make note of how strangely callous his hands are. How cold they are, made even colder by the metal rings on his fingers that brush uncomfortably against your skin.

003. He pokes fun at you, makes jokes. But they’re never meant to necessarily harm you. That would be rude, oh no. He can be a bit much, but he only means to make you laugh. But there’s still a strange distance to him. You can’t seem to penetrate him, necessarily - no matter how you may retort. But maybe, if you say something right on point at the right moment, he might just remember you.

004. After an exciting conversation, he asks for your number. Or your contact details. Anything to potentially arrange another meeting down the line. It’s a sign that you’ve attracted his attention in some way. Maybe he’ll contact you down the line.

005. Perhaps, after some time of meeting, if you’re lucky, he’ll show you his genuine smile rather than his half-smile. Right then, you realize that the man you met way back when may actually have more secrets than you could have ever comprehended - if his smile was fake, what else is fake?

COLOURS:

001. Pitch black, of course - the color of choice for the ex-goth.

002. Crimson red, the color of beating hearts and throbbing flesh.

003. Forest green, the color of D.’s forest before it began to rot as a consequence of his deteriorating psyche.

004. Murky blue, the color of the ocean at midnight as the moon is hidden in the Los Angeles smog. It seems endless the more he looks into it.

005. Earthy brown, the color of Annie’s sweater the night she vanished into the darkness forever.

SCENTS:

001. A consistent reek of cigarette smoke on his clothes, his breath, his every word.

002. A faint scent of hair gel and mousse - faintly applied, to keep his hair as voluminous as possible.

003. The equally as faint trace of after shave after he’s taken care of himself. Though there is a stronger smell of hair dye, as he obsessively covers every white hair that may emerge on his head.

004. The strong smell of permanent marker, inking pens, and lead from his furious sketching.

005. Then, there’s his own natural smell - cinnamon mixed with a musty pine; it’s a bit like the smell of a forest filled with pine trees after a heavy rain. Overwhelming, powerful, and stuffy.

CLOTHING:

001. Three skull rings on each hand, on your index, middle, and ring fingers. It’s perfect symmetry, and they shine against whatever light might hit it. But they are always so very cold to the touch.

002. Black, black, and more black - but the occasional muted green or brown enters the palette. Never any colors brighter than those, however - it would be far too much of an eyesore for someone like him.

003. Three gold and black earrings on the top of his ears. Again, symmetry is key. Keeping that image of control and collection is exactly what he wishes above all things; that alternative look.

004. Combat boots, black and laced up to the top. They’re impeccably buffed and shined, though the soles look a little worse for wear. It must be all the walking he does at night when sleep simply won’t come.

005. Baggy shirts and sweaters, occasionally dress shirts, that hide his figure. He’s disproportionate, far too thin; the longer the clothes, the better he can hide how odd and lanky he truly is from his point of view.

OBJECTS:

001. His drawing tablet, always sketching something idly while at home and daydreaming. There are hundreds of random sketches collected on the pages, though some consistencies are quite visible if one took a closer look.

002. His collection of various statuettes and figurines. He has placed them in detolfs for everyone to see, fawn over, and be amazed by. If anyone so much as looks incorrectly at his more precious ones, he will have a close eye on them in fear that they will somehow break merely by being looked at.

003. Signed copy of one of the few produced vinyl records of Oingo Boingo’s Forbidden Zone hanging on his wall. It’s framed, and he’s very proud of it! Often shows it off, in fact. He’s a big fan of theirs.

004. A safety deposit box filled with his biggest secrets - specifically a thumb drive filled with Annie’s e-mails to him. He backed them up there so he can read them on occasion and not have people discover them on his actual computer - he’s quite the paranoid man.

005. Post-its on the walls of his workroom. There is literally no more space for plaster, only post-its of notes and ideas that he has while he conducts research for his next project.

VICES / BAD HABITS:

001. OBSESSIVENESS - Look at him, so utterly fixated on someone who will never love him back. But what he feels isn’t love, oh no. It’s rather a completely unhealthy adoration and veneration of someone he felt understood him. But it is arrogant, of course, to assume that you are so complex as to feel as if there are only a select few who understand you ( in his very unfortunate case ). He has gone to horrific lengths to keep tabs on Annie, and does so as covertly as possible. Nowadays, he uses his intelligence to fuel his obsessive tendencies.

002. LYING - Covers the truth up with layers and layers of sarcasm and lies so that he, or rather his true self, can never be discovered. The result is that he keeps people in a web of extremely elaborate deception, the likes of which they can never escape. But there are cracks in the facades occasionally, they just have to be found.

003. COVETING YOUTH - He is so obsessed with youth that he cannot handle anybody or anything maintaining the status that he had when he was their age (20s, in other words). He especially applies it to himself, though no amount of primping and covering up the blemishes on his face can ever erase the fact that he’s slowly growing crow’s feet around his eyes, made even worse by the bags under them - and my, they’re growing a fine mixture of blue and purple, like fresh bruises.

004. UNWARRANTED SELF IMPORTANCE - He is completely self centered, and thinks of the entire world on his own terms. This is how he’s been wired ever since he can remember, and he always puts himself and his survival first. He makes friends and connections based on this principle, and has a great amount of pride because of this. It is unfortunate, but it is one of his biggest flaws and ultimately what has led him down the slippery slope to irrelevance and isolation.

005. LACK OF EMPATHY - On top of being self involved, he struggles to feel for the plight of others. In fact, it can be said he struggles to feel much of anything, as he worries far more for his current predicament rather than for the difficulties of those in his life. He will only assist or even understand if he can relate in some way from personal experience, or if it benefits him and his career. There is very rarely an instance he will help someone or something because he feels it is the right thing to do.

BODY LANGUAGE:

001. The aforementioned half-smile - the Jonathan trademark, something he has rehearsed ever since his career started to take off. Perhaps even before then, while he was still in high school. It is boyish, youthful, playful - and it is always followed by a sarcastic or joking remark.

002. Hands in pockets - The sign of deceit, hiding something, keeping his distance from you. He is very secretive at all times, and often feels uncomfortable in social situations, and feel better as long as he has his hands in his pockets. That said...

003. Wild gesticulations - When passionately discussing something, he has a tendency to make hand movements of all kinds. Circling his hands, stretching his arms out, pointing, doing anything and everything to get his point across. He becomes expressive in a rather charismatic way. It’s truly odd, considering how often he keeps his hands in his pockets.

004. Hunched over - Slouching half the time, his true height is hidden by this decision to constantly look as if he’s three inches shorter than he is. Rather it is a symptom of his insecurity over his appearance ( he does think he’s weird looking to begin with ), or from a life of leaning over a desk, he certainly rarely stands up straight.

005. Leaning on his right foot versus the left - When standing, and talking to someone, he always puts all his weight on his right foot, and leans to that side. It’s his dominant side, and it gives him his lackadaisical appearance. This likely helps people approach him in many ways.

AESTHETICS:

001. BIOMECHANICS. - Feeling flesh on metal is one of the most skin-crawling sensations, but Jonathan is fascinated with it. He draws it, he lives and breathes it, one of his favorite films of all time is Tetsuo: The Iron Man. Not because he himself would want to put metal on his body, but the very idea is where he believes humanity is headed in the next decade or two. Biomechanics, while cold, is something that gives Jonathan some sense of comfort - that there is a way to marry technology and flesh. Maybe he, too, can be a biomechanical humanoid - so he fantasizes.

002. GOTH ( AS IT SHOULD BE ). - A goth since his teen years, Jonathan knows the fashion and subculture inside and out; or at least, he did once. Though an ex-goth from his early 30s, he still maintains some interest in the culture all the same. He may have stopped dying his hair and wearing “goth” accessories and clothes, but he enjoys the lifestyle and still generally keeps it close to his heart. Just don’t call him Goth Bomb.

003. BODY HORROR. - Flesh mutating and intermingling with itself, a David Cronenberg nightmare that he experienced firsthand in his own dreams. Eyes in places they shouldn’t be, hair where it should never grow... the list goes on and on. It, like biomechanics, sends chills running up and down his spine in a way that excites him. Perhaps he is like Tetsuo, a man who finds a grotesque fascination in manipulating the flesh with the unnatural. But in this case, it’s how naturally manipulation can occur without the introduction of foreign objects, to word it somewhat scientifically...

004. SCI-FI HORROR. - The darkness of space, it’s vastness. It’s quite horrifying, the more he thinks about it. But it’s exciting too. All the possibilities that lie in the stars, all the worlds he could visit as someone quite tired of Earth... but what horrors await behind each planet, each moon, even within each star? They would simply jump at the chance to devour an unimportant human whole, and Jonathan is unsure if he wants to take that chance. All the same, he dreams of that world, hoping that one day he may get to experience it - but, perhaps, from a distance.

005. DEEP COLORS IN CINEMATOGRAPHY / CHIAROSCURO. - Intense lighting, mood lighting, anything that brings out the terror or intensity of a scene is something Jonathan imitates in his works. By deep colors, it is meant that he adores the use of intense reds, blues, and purples in cinema - these often pop up in his work as mood lighting for his set pieces. They signal to him a fantasy world that is not our own. Chiaroscuro simply refers to the film noir technique that he grew to adore from a young age. The harsh black against white, signalling mystery and evil lying behind every corner entranced that young and intelligent mind, sparked his terrified imagination to what monsters could hide in the faces of his favorite noir protagonists...

SONGS / PIECES:

001. montezuma ── fleet foxes

002. little lennon ── asian kung fu generation

003. sabertooth tiger ── cage the elephant

004. controller ── oingo boingo

005. dark entries ── bauhaus

#DRAWN SO FAST I FORGOT I HAD IT IN MY SKETCHBOOK. - DASH MEMES.#( this took way longer than it shoULD HAVE GKDMKSLAD )#( i have a few things to do for tomorrow night and monday so i'll do them then!! )#( that includes starters ask memes and replies. )#( 4 now have this infodump on why jonathan vastielle is a horrible person )#( but also why he is i hope a tragic horrible person )#( he made the choice to be complicit )#( sad. )

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pespillo · 5 years

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full offense you choose very nice colors! they look rlly pretty and ur skill with such is rlly amazing! do you hav any advice for gettin better with Colors?

Getting better with colors is less of “this is what you should be doing !! dont shade with black fuck u” and more of “what is that you want to evoke in people” like, whats the theme here, different colors communicate different things, things that are “ugly” can actually be good if done right, and sometimes the brightest colors arent appropiate.

im a firealapaca user, but im sure theres tools in whatever medium or software you use that can be used to replicate these things, so , first and foremost!

always have shading in a different layer! so you can edit it with the “Hue/Saturation/Brightness” or the “Tone Curve” options.

no artist has a palette set from the get go unless they do have one and use it in every single piece, which is , well, only reccomendable for flat colors for characters with set palettes, not actual shading and stuff like that. (otherwise your pieces could look same-y or repetitive in theme, not in the good consistency way)

choosing colors basically means Choosing a theme (at least for me it is) , i made three quick examples with different approaches. (these are the quickest)

1: the simple/”romantic” approach, the shading layer is set on Multiply, the lighting layer is set on Add (the Add color should always be pretty dark or else it will be blinding), this one is alright you dont have to think too hard on it, its warm, sweet, pink and light red tones are best for this.

2: the mysterious approach: you doing something brooding,, somber, sinister maybe? blue is the way to go, it shows up in most color shades, with that said you gotta comunicate the theme with the shading placement as well, as you can see, its obscuring part of the face in the example, the lighting adds a lot of volume to something otherwise ok.

3: the wild card experimentation: you decided you wanted to go ham, i reccomend a Strong Light layer with Blues and Greens , or invert that if the character is in Blue tones, with Yellow lighting, itll surely disorientate your audience in the good way, take some tips from Impressionism (it is experiemntal tho, you can change those colors all you want with the Hue option, make sure to not blind anyone)

while these are the Easiest ways to get the mood of a piece going, lets take a look at what Theme entails:

“WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?” there is a Theme here, the colors are speaking, i did this piece without any multiply or add layers, entirely by eye picking colors (with a bit of help of the tone curve and hue/saturation/brightness tho!)

as you can see im a fan of purple shades, BUT the hues are always shifting from blue to red always, barely remaining unchanged unless we count the pure red devil (and still, it fits between the background around) while the Accent color barely had any change (because its a focal point, your eyes shift to look into the character´s faces). The theme is duality and true nature, red and blue for duality, yellow for true nature.

im still a big fan of purple shades, but this time they arent so dominant, the focal points are much bigger this time, this one tells a story along with how i chose to draw it.

“Sickening colors”, like yellows/greens/greys, can be very useful, they arent to be avoided at all costs, this piece is about Transformation from human to machine, the green shading at the very start of the “healthy” human indicates theres something already wrong, the way it darkers up and rots his skin indicates the transition, the final stage being dark and purplish, resembling his clothes , becoming a husk of his former self, the bright neon purple is toxicity, whats next for the machine.

Overall, its a matter of experimentation and trial and error, dont be afraid to change a thing when it seems “done” but also dont try to “add” more to something that already satisfied you.

I hopeeeee this helped? idk ,, its all a matter of emulating what you feel rather than what you feeling, its a strange emotion.

#asks #unit002.txt #long post #tutorial #samsa´s art stuff #Anonymous

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sundrenched-smilez · 5 years

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I see your 'here's a lot!' and raise you: 1, 3-6, 10-13, 17-19, 21, 23, 25

1. what is your gender?

dainty + bubbly

sharp

ethereal

decadent

3. what is your gender presentation like?

being genderfluid, it’s difficult tbh, and i dont always know what my gender is at any given moment? only what feels Wrong and Uncomfy. so i just gotta trial and error until i get tired of doing that and give up, or i find smth good. this can take several minutes expressing the above feelings and aesthetics is essentially my gender pres

4. what is your Gender Euphoria Outfit?

d+b - smth flowy, soft, traditionally more girly and femme

sharp - punk, black and spiky. metal helps, so do bracelets, and sometimes eyeliner done to a point. mb a lil slutty, but for me, not for others. tank tops, torn clothing, showing skin

ethereal - the above, but more adorned and colorful? like rly unique and confident looks. less edges, more fae

decadent - like shirts w ruffles on them, feeling like a pirate or an old century princess, loose clothes, fancy clothes, feeling a lil like royalty or thinking highly of myself. mb more animated w my actions, more dancy

5. what makes you feel validated?

ppl using my pronouns, or telling their friends “oh look at that person, theyr’e goals/theyre pretty/so hot, etc” and impressing ppl w my beauty and style that way.

ppl not knowing what genitals i have, or being confused on that front!! like i’ve told ppl im on hormones n they assumed T instead of estrogen, and that’s fun. kinda like how u like to confuse ppl

6. top five favorite parts of your body (n why you love them)?

thighs!! they’re rly good n have recently gotten thiccer bc i put on weight, and that makes me happy c:

i have a cute butt!!

boobs, bc ive always wanted them, nd i have them now, nd im big sexy

legs, esp when shaven, bc that always feels nice. so does my tummy, it’s rl soft

i love my eyes so much, they’re such a dark, deep warm brown!!! they rllllyyy pop when i wear eyeliner w them, and im always consistently happy abt them c: i also have good lips, nd suuuuper soft skin

im cheating but i also rly adore my hair, it gets rly curly sometimes, and i love that abt it

10. do you have any trans pride merch?

i dont!! i have a gay flag in my room tho c:

11. recent happy trans moment?

at work yesterday, i had mentioned customers probs find me offputting bc im tall and trans, and my friend josh who i work w, was like “use that to your advantage!! I know that sounds weird, but when i wear a flower crown, it’s easier to sell to ppl, bc im the Bubbly Gay” and i was like “hi, i dont have the genitals you think i do, please buy my fragrance” in a deadpan voice, n cracked him and my manager up

12. favorite trans headcanon?

samus aran from metroid being trans!! shes powerful and unstoppable, and i love her

13. favorite canon trans character? (alt: 2nd favorite trans headcanon?)

i rly love elliot from On A Sunbeam, but also alex fierro from the magnus chase series!!! she’s never afraid to let ppl know when her pronouns have changed (genderfluid) and she’s out and proud, and promotes “flaunting the weird” or unique, and she always wears pink n green, which is cool. like everyone was in white snow suits for camouflage, and she still had a pink/green one somehow, nd it was rly silly

17. something you wish you could tell your younger self?

brush ur teeth more, also dont worry, ppl will love ur dick and wont bash u for having one. you’ll have friends that love and want to b around u

18. what would your Ideal Fashion Look be?

i rly want that rose dress i drew on zuretta, mb i’ll try sewing one when i have money

19. (how) does your gender relate to your sexuality?

if u like me, ur gay, and also i rly want someone (partner wise) to call me their flame, bc that would b rly affirming and gay. like im an urban/modern pirate witch who strolls into town on odd full moons, bringing lavish gifts and showering my love in affection, sex, and laughteri like the concept of sex more than actual sex, but u know,,,, some gay thoughts

21. what makes you feel euphoric?

when i can express my genders the way i want to, or express/hold myself in a way that rly makes me all !!!!!! inside

like a firm and steady connection, resonating in my aesthetic like a beacon or a lightning strike; powerful, brimming with energy, and certainty.

23. claim something as trans culture.

running a joke into the ground until it's unrecognizable from what the original one was (i’m about to end this man’s whole career > me, about to fight someone “i’m about to end this man” >me answering if i’ve entered the building yet “i’m about to” > me, when i’m a muscle underneath someone’s stomach fat “i’m ab”)

editing ur friends into memes

25. what’s your favorite part of being trans?

tbh i dont rly identify as trans, just nb, bc ive always felt nonbinary; used to b rly grossed out by being called anything masculine, felt uncomfortable to take my shirt off from the age of like 6, in public spaces. called myself an individualso like im definitely not cis but i’ve always been nonbinary, so i dont feel the need to categorize myself into like “someone who isn’t as they used to be” if that makes sense.

plus idk, uncomfy term for me specifically, doesn’t feel right. same w transfeminine, like im androgynous in the first place, and if i were feminine, i dont see the need 2 arbitrarily add trans in front of it, as if to say “im artificial”obvs those terms r affirming for others, and im rly happy abt that and encourage them to use em, but for me its just like. mmm. thats how it feels, a lil nasty nd not me. wrong, ig? feelings. its 1 am almost so im in a slightly off mindset, but also fine bc i just took like a big nap from 3:30ish to 8no gender roles, im free of constriction and can dress however tf i want bc fuck fashion trends? its just money in the pocket of a corporation. now i do like fashion, but only in that i love to see how ppl express themselves, not so much following trends and rules abt it. it’s better to b unique and have ur own style, what makes u u, what makes u comfy and happily expressed

#abt me #cassette tapes #asks

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ddaenggtan · 5 years

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jungkook

j | write or describe an alternative ending to [insert fic].

You didn’t pick and I’ve been sitting on this for a while sO y’all get to know how From Eden was supposed to end before I wussed out and decided Nah Romance Y’all! I’m putting it at the end, though, because this is long enough as it is!

u | share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

ryn i know u sent this and i hate you for making me pick anyone at all for anything sO YOU’RE RUDE, BLOCKED AND REPORTED, I’M MAKING YOU ONE OF THEM AND I HOPE IT GETS CHUMMY FOR YA

@fortunexkookie - ryn is easily one of my favorite writers, because everything they write is very real. like. each mc is relatable in their own way, they’re all very human and flawed and realistic, and i really love that. each of their iterations of the members are also very distinct, like their Falling Skies Jungkook is very different from their The Turing Test Jungkook, while still maintaining, I think, the things that make them them. Both Jungkooks are, at heart, very much like I imagine the real Jungkook to be, while still being distinct characters. If you dropped them both into a room, they’d have their own personalities and quirks and traits, but they’d still be JK. And the way Ryn does their world-building is simple and understated but it can’t be denied that it’s some of the most beautiful worldbuilding I’ve seen. And we’re not going to start on the prose part of their writing, because I will legitimately never stop talking about the way Ryn consistently puts in lines that just. Echo. In your brain. Like. It flows and it emotes and it’s perfect for the scenes, but then they just hit you with these specific parts that just stay in your heart for so long that they grow roots. I’m never not going to be in love with Ryn’s writing.

@junqkook - Yara is an ICON. Like. HOW she read something I wrote and thought it was good I still don’t know because I legitimately am floored every single time I read something by her. I’m pretty sure I’ve gone through her masterlist at least twice, and every single story is so unique and creative, even the ones that are inspired are published series, and I’m just. In awe. The characters she creates are always so varied and intriguing, and the worlds are so interesting and fascinating, and I am consistently envious of the way her work flows so smoothly and so naturally. It all has such a natural progression, the dialogue is genuine and real, and I’m just. I’m in awe. Literally in awe, I love it so much, and I can only hope that my shiny garbage can one day be like that.

@gukyi - i don’t think we’re actually mutuals, because I could only wish for someone like Guyi to know I exist, and the only reason I’m keeping the tag is bc she deserves all of the love and praise. If you want good fics, especially if you’re not one for the smut, then you really need to be following Guyi because the worlds she creates in her fics are absolutely astounding. Her entire HP au series is absolutely phenomenal and creative and stands out from every single hp au I’ve EVER read, which is rare because while they all tend to be good, they also all tend to be very similar because there’s only so much you can usually do in a hp au, and I haven’t read a single fic from her that I didn’t love. Victorious? Iconic, the worldbuilding she did to add onto HTTYD was phenomenal, and she blew the childhood friends to enemies to lovers trope out of the park. Her horror fics are some of the only ones I’ve read because they’re just that good. THE WEDDING PLANNERS? Truly iconic. I honestly WISH I could write like Guyi.

n - answered here

g | do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

I’m a dumb bitch, so I have to write my story from start to finish. I tend to ramble in my notes about various scenes I want to include, and maybe some random notes about the relationship or their personalities, but like.

o - answered here

k | what’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

That’s gOTTA be Forever Rain, like. I’m not usually an angst person, so I’m not super good at coming up with angst prompts, but Forever Rain is EASILY the most angsty thing I’ve ever come up with. I’m getting sad just writing it, like.

From Eden Alternate Ending

The aftermath of the fight with Demeter changes everything. Hoseok and Hades don’t see Yoongi before he gets dragged back to Olympus, which shouldn’t be possible in the first place, but Zeus has always tended to side with anyone who wasn’t the Queen of the Dead. No one is even sure Yoongi’s alright until Hermes comes down to tell them about Zeus’ decision, and Hoseok is pretty sure he’s never seen Hades angrier than that night. They haven’t spoken since, not really; he knows that she visits him when she thinks he’s asleep, knows that she runs her hands carefully through the air above his fractured wing even as she has to work to stitch her own body back together out of shadows and the memory of what hope felt like. The guilt shoves from her in waves, until it cloys in his throat and drowns out his own. Hades is focused on her own pain; how she should never have gone to Zeus, never have sought out what Yoongi was so afraid of, never trusted that Hoseok would be able to stay with him when Yoongi could convince anyone of anything. She doesn’t talk to anyone, doesn’t do anything but the work expected of her; the dead are piling up, slower than during Demeter’s rampage in the mortal world, but without Hoseok there to pass judgement, the Council is forced to, and they take far longer than he ever did, and she doesn’t know what she’s going to do because he was hurt because of her.

Hoseok, meanwhile, is on bedrest, forced to spread his wings over several chairs so that they stay put, so the bones don’t break further and they set correctly. He’s a god - one of the oldest gods - but Demeter knew what she was doing when she twisted his wings beneath her and laughed as they cracked. In this story, Hades does not talk to him softly as he heals; she’s too afraid to see the accusation in his eyes, the blame that does not exist. She doesn’t tell him that she thinks its her fault, so he isn’t able to convince her otherwise. He doesn’t shed any tears with her in the darkness, she doesn’t hear his whispered confession that he blames himself because if he’d stayed...if he hadn’t flown off to try to protect his queen then maybe, just maybe, Yoongi would still be there. He’d still be safe. She doesn’t wipe his tears with her thumb, she doesn’t press a gentle kiss to his cheek after asking for his forgiveness, he doesn’t slide his lips across her knuckles and tell her there’s nothing to forgive. Instead there’s only Hoseok, stuck in a room and in pain, wondering if he’s condemned Yoongi to death because he couldn’t follow orders.

In this universe, Hades is too afraid to send warnings to Olympus about what might happen to the dead if Yoongi returns hurt or upset. She doesn’t want to meddle more, doesn’t want to cause more damage to the flower god that she loves so much, doesn’t want to watch him crumple like the blossoms around her pomegranate tree. Can’t bear to think about where the golden drops that decorate the ground there came from, but can’t bear to have it covered, either. It’s a reminder, of just what happens when she gets too close. Of what happens when she lets herself forget that she carries Death on her fingertips and Tragedy in her footprints.

In this universe, when Yoongi returns, he isn’t waiting in her room to tell her that he loves her and Hoseok. He doesn’t hold her, doesn’t show her how much he missed her in those months. In this universe he comes back quiet and solitary. He doesn’t visit Hoseok at the gates anymore. Yoongi can’t bear the reminder of the pain he caused. This time, Yoongi stays in his room. He visits the tree and his flowers, tends to them until the remnants of his blood are visible no more and the only reminder of that night is the taste of pomegranate on his tongue. He doesn’t visit Hades, doesn’t make jokes with Hoseok, and neither of them seek him out, too ashamed or guilty or grief-stricken to be faced with the hope he holds in his very skin. None of them can bear it, so none of them do.

Hades stops wandering the Meadow. She doesn’t visit the gates, either, ignores the whines of Cerberus when he misses her, refuses to pass anywhere near the courtyard where the tree sits, surrounded by a kaleidoscope of color that she’s grown to hate. The smell of pomegranate surrounds her, as it always has, but it turns her stomach now more than ever. She cries more often than before, and no one notices.

Hoseok doesn’t let the Council take over again. There’s a backlog of spirits, that’s the excuse he sticks to, and there’s too much work to be done. He pets Cerberus when the dog whines, letting all three heads lick wounds in him that no one can see, and he pretends that it’s okay. He doesn’t look at the flower crown hanging on the peg nearby, pretends it’s not there and that it’s as faded and withered as the ones behind it. His judgments become harsher, less forgiving than they were, and people stop asking for them. He stands with the dog at his back and the anger on his face and pretends like he’s healed. He doesn’t acknowledge that more broke that night than just his wing. Or that it never really healed.

Yoongi doesn’t speak. He’s silent and steady in the darkness, hands moving on instinct. He misses Cerb, misses the way he would cajole Hoseok into judging more souls, misses the way Hades would smile as she worked on the flowers. But he knows better, now. His mother spent six months reminding just what would happen if he ran again, what would happen if he let himself think he was safe again. He has nothing else to do so he thinks, about what he should’ve done. How he shouldn’t have convinced Hoseok to leave, how he shouldn’t have been in the Meadow, how he shouldn’t have asked about the pomegranates, how he shouldn’t have gotten attached when he knew she wouldn��t let him stay. How he shouldn’t have run. The pile of flower crowns beside him grows with every day, and they mock him with their refusal to wither. They stay, bright and full and hopeful, a light in the dark of his room that refuses to go out. When he leaves to go back to his mother, he doesn’t take them with him.

#answered #ask game #about bette #fic: from eden #ahahahahahaha pain #lots of pain #i hurt #a lot #probably i should turn this into its own little post so its easier for people to see but!#oh well!#this is sad #bUT LOVE THOSE AUTHORS OKAY SEND THEM ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT BECAUSE THEY DESERVE IT #Anonymous #questions

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